Take a Chance (Julie's story)
by ChiefPam
Summary: "I can't stop staring at my death, ambling towards me in a red hoodie. Except he doesn't kill me; he rescues me. Then things get really weird. Maybe the pharma salvage was a huge success, and we found some really good drugs? No, not even that would explain a zombie playing records... " The movie Warm Bodies as told by Julie. (7 chapters total)
1. Pharma Salvage

Take a Chance (Julie's Story)

by ChiefPam

**A/N: I've read and enjoyed the book, but this is movieverse. We get to hear what R is thinking, a lot of the time, but we don't get the same look inside Julie's head. So this is my attempt at telling her side of the story, and bringing out some of my favorite elements. A lot of the dialog here is straight from the movie, the plot totally is, but the extra bits are mine. Wish I owned them. Don't. Played with them anyway. :)**

Prologue

"Hello, and thank you for your service today." I stand with my boyfriend on one side and my best friend on the other, watching the recorded message. I'm a little nervous, but try to act unaffected. I have been on salvage runs before. No incidents.

"In the eight years since this plague destroyed our world, and we erected this wall…"

I lean towards Perry. "You think we're getting the stuff for the cure?" Probably not, but a girl can dream, right?

Perry shakes his head. "Nobody believes in a cure anymore, Jules."

Yeah, I should have known he'd say that. Still kind of hurts, though.

"…we have counted on young volunteers like yourselves to gather resources from beyond the wall." And you know why they want young volunteers? 'Cause we can run away faster.

"But first, a word of caution." The screen changes to video footage, showing a zombie, who's looking toward the camera, and then lurching forward. "Corpses look human; they are not. They do not think, they do not bleed." The corpse gets closer, then the camera angle wavers and changes to the sky. Guessing whoever took that footage isn't around anymore. "Whether they were your mother or your best friend, they are beyond your help. They are uncaring, unfeeling, incapable of remorse."

"Sound like anyone you know, Dad?" I mutter.

His recorded image keeps talking. Just like the real thing would do.

I sneak a look at Perry. We all know this, but he's had closer experience than some. He's looking grim, but no more than usual. I haven't seen him smile much, since his dad's corpse tried to kill him, last year.

"Just picture them as this." The picture switches to a dessicated skeleton running towards the camera with a scream. Yeah, I've seen it before, but that's still scary. I've seen corpses before, a few times. Never saw a skeleton.

"As sons and daughters of possibly the sole remaining human settlement on Earth, you are a critical part of what stands between us and extinction." Thinking about that, I reach for my boyfriend's hand. Another few years… "Therefore, you have an obligation to return to us safely." Perry pulls his hand away from mine, pointing at the screen instead, looking uncomfortable. "And if you remember your training, you will."

I look away from Perry, my heart sinking. Is he giving up? Right before going out on a risky mission is not the time to get all fatalistic.

"Good luck, God speed," the message concludes, "and God bless America."

Nora leans towards me, chanting softly, "U-S-A, U-S-A."

"Let's go," Perry says, to all of us.

Then we're heading for the wall, weapons ready. We're searching in a new direction today, and possibly going further out. The nearer places are already picked over. We're especially looking for drugs, medicines. Pharma-salvage. My favorite. Pills are much lighter than canned goods.

No zombie hoard right outside the wall, so we lower our guns, looking around. In spray paint on the wall of an old building it says, **Welcome to the Dead Zone. Look alive out there.**

I hear Nora whisper, "Sweet."

Yeah, I really hope so.

"Per, let's bail." I heft the shotgun, feeling the reassuring weight in my arms. I knew this salvage was a bad idea. Too far from the wall. With a bunch of idiots, and led by a prick. I know, I know, he's my prick – so to speak, not like I've seen it lately – but Perry's gotten so difficult to talk to, and he wouldn't listen to any of my perfectly reasonable suggestions. Like, say, post a guard. Or make a run for it when we first suspected trouble.

He doesn't even turn to look at me. "Perry?"

"We have orders, Jules," he says, in that dead tone of voice that won't be argued with. God knows I've tried, but when he gets that flat note in his voice… I swear, frickin' corpses are more reasonable. The orders I heard were that we had an obligation to make it back safely, whether we got the goods or not. The Colonel's all about staying alive to fight another day. But Perry hadn't seemed interested in that part. He moves towards the door, with his gun up at least.

Why don't we all have our guns up? It might not be as much fun as Berg's video game, but it's a little bit more important. If these guys are the best the city can do we're all doomed.

"It was nothing, anyway."

And he knows this, how, exactly?

He turns towards me, taking his attention off the door. "You're being paranoid, okay?"

Shit. There's movement behind him, on the far side of the door. I feel electrified, sick with adrenaline, and briefly furious with Perry for putting us all in such a bad spot. "Perry!"

The door slams open, and corpses start pouring in, growling loudly. Perry hits the first one in the face with the butt of his gun, knocking him down, for all the good that will do. I drop to one knee for better balance and fire.

From the corner of my eye, I see Perry jump up on a counter. "Aim for their heads!"

The room erupts in gunfire as the others belatedly realize the danger, but the corpses keep coming, moving fast, jumping over the counter. Berg is pulled down and killed just a few feet in front of me. OMG, I'm going to die. I move behind the counter, diving for cover as if I think they're going to shoot me.

I try to put all that fear behind a glass wall, like Dad told me to. Do what you have to, to survive, he says. Have a breakdown about it later.

The growling and groaning from the corpses continues to fill the air. The gun shots get fewer. I can hear people getting knocked down, and screaming. Briefly. I see one corpse head explode, at least. But there are too many of them.

Deep breath. I scoot back out into the open, keeping low to avoid friendly fire.

The corpse on top of Berg is – was – a black woman. She rears up and snarls at me. Too easy a shot for me to miss. Bam, she goes over backwards. Down for the count. I recock the gun.

The one that Perry knocked down is still on the floor, half way to getting back up. But he's not moving. It's like he's frozen in place. Staring right at me with wide, unblinking eyes. Damn, that's creepy. I should shoot him, but for some reason I hesitate. Maybe he's frozen me, too, by that unnatural stillness. He's not an active threat, yet. Got to make all my shots count.

I move back behind the counter, keeping an eye on him until I move out of sight. Perry fires again; I can hear the cartridge bounce on the floor of the lab. I hope he took his own advice and aimed for the head. Not nearly enough gunfire, guys, this is not good at all. Someone else screams and I hear a thud. Kicking, punching. Damn, I hope that's not Perry.

If he gets himself killed by a zombie, I hope he comes back – just so I can shoot him in the head for being so stubborn. No, I don't mean that. Do I? I don't know what I'm feeling under the icy blanket of fear.

I move towards the other end of the counter. I get a couple of them, but there are way too many bodies on the floor. The creepiest thing about zombies, I think, is that if you get bit, you change sides in the war, and won't even realize if you kill your own family. Though I'm probably safe, there. The Colonel wouldn't hesitate to shoot a Julie-corpse in the head. I don't know if that's reassuring or depressing.

_Stop thinking so much, Julie._ I make myself stand back up, and move towards the center of the lab, looking for good targets. And Perry. "Perry?. Perry!" He's not on the counter anymore. Shit, shit, shit. "Where are you? Answer me!"

Machine gun fire on the next row over; we're not all dead yet, anyway. I hear growling and gasping from Nora's direction, and swivel towards the source of the rapid gunfire. A huge corpse is literally lifting her up. I aim between the shelves and the counter top, and it's another good hit. His head explodes and he falls. Pulling Nora with him.

I go to recock but it doesn't work. I stare at my gun in horror. Am I empty? Do I have spares? What if I'm the last person left alive in here? A crash from behind me claims my attention and I swing around. Zombie coming straight at me. Acting on instinct I slam the barrel of the gun into him; it hits him hard enough to flip him before he drops to the ground.

Where's my bag? I had extra shells… I can't find them, and a growing sense of horror fills me as the room gets quieter. The gun slips from my fingers. Movement in front of me. I look up – it's the corpse in the red hoodie, now on his feet and moving towards me, still staring at me. With fresh blood on its face.

C'mon, Julie, think! I reach down into my boot to pull out my knife and hurl it across the room towards him. Surprisingly, it hits him, burying itself to the hilt. But in his chest, not in his head. All that's going to do is piss him off.

He pauses and looks down briefly, pulls the knife out and drops it on the ground. Then he looks back up, still staring. I expect a snarl or grimace, but he only seems mildly confused, and… if he were still human I'd think his feelings were hurt. Which is insane. He starts towards me again, his long legs closing the distance much too quickly even though he's not especially hurrying.

I back up a little, reaching for the support of the counter behind me as I realize this is it. I'm going to die. I can't look away from my death, ambling across the room towards me.

The corpse's face contorts as he studies me, and a low sound escapes. With the blood pounding in my ears I can't make it out. He's coming closer, he's right in front of me.

My knees give way and I sink down, staring at him, my back sliding against the cupboard doors. He follows me down, never looking away from my face, putting an arm against the edge of the counter, but not touching me.

My vision is going. He's going to bite me, I know he is, but he's taking his time about it, still studying my face. I can't take the suspense, please just kill me now. Pale skin, dark hair, wide gray eyes. Blood around his mouth. I can't breathe properly.

I look past him, desperately trying to block out the whole situation, expecting any second to feel teeth ripping into my throat. What is he waiting for?

In the deadly quiet of that room, his voice grabs my attention back… wait, he said my name! Am I hallucinating? I can't help it, I focus on his face again, searching desperately for any trace of humanity.

He's just looking at me. Why is he just looking at me? This is weird, and I grab onto that distraction. Anything to avoid dwelling on my impending demise.

He pulls away – away! – slightly, looking around the room. Looking behind him, although his body doesn't move, keeping me trapped against the cabinet with one arm. Not that I could move at the moment. All I hear is death, shuffling and groaning and sniffing out prey.

When he turns back to face me, his eyes widen further, and I swear he looks frightened. What the hell does he have to be scared of? I'm the one who's about to be zombie chow! He meets my eyes briefly, then looks down. A moment later, he's raising one of his hands to my face, palm towards me. I close my eyes, flinching as I feel cold slimy wetness touching my cheek. He's… painting me with something. The touch is strangely gentle, but that substance has got to be blood. It smells awful. I feel a tear escape.

His hand drags down then pulls away, and he hasn't yet killed me. I open my eyes again, insanely hoping that he'll be gone. That they'll all be gone, and I'll wake up, and be able to joke with Nora about the corpse who covered me with barbeque sauce.

He's still there. Still staring. He leans in towards my throat, close enough that his hair brushes my cheek, and I shudder. If he rips my throat out, at least that should be quick, right? He doesn't touch me, though, just sniffs a few times, then moves back out where I can see him again, a vaguely satisfied look on his face. He looks me in the eyes again and very clearly says, "Safe".

Yes, I've clearly lost it. I've never been less safe in my life. I'll never be safe again.

In the aisle, I can see the corpses gathering. Apparently they're done eating. My stomach churns and my breath hitches at the thought. But… they're not coming towards me. I know they can see me, but they don't seem to care. Maybe… if I stay very still… they'll go away?

Except that the corpse in front of me is still there, still staring at me. He's trying to talk again. Did he say "come"? I can't help it, I have to ask, "What?" It comes out more like "wha?" – just a whisper of a sound.

He backs away, still staring at me, standing to his feet and pulling me to mine, grabbing onto my arm by the sleeve. This is not happening. It really can't be. It's impossible.

Part of me wants to scream and fight and run away. But I can hear my dad's voice in my head, "Survive. Stay alive, no matter what. Wait for your chance." And I'm too numb, too weak to put up much of a struggle, so I let him drag me along with the pack of corpses towards the door. It smells awful in here. They smell awful.

As I'm drawn towards the door, I can't help looking for Nora. To my shock, she's still alive, hiding under a desk, behind the corpse I killed, dark splotches on her face. She meets my eyes but I know she can't do anything. I look away, not wanting to alert them to her presence, and the corpse drags me out of her sight.

The pack of corpses has reverted to a slow walking pace, so different than their speed when hungry. It's not hard for me to keep up with them. The one in the red hoodie let go of me after a little while, but he's staying close, and keeps looking at me. If I try to run, they'll kill me. The only reason I'm still alive is… that they think I'm dead?

Oh, God, maybe I am. Maybe I died, and just didn't notice. One hand creeps up to my throat, which seems to still be undamaged. If a little slimy on one side, but that was from his hand, not my blood.

I don't understand, and I just let my mind drift for a while, looking at the ground and trying hard to imagine that none of this is happening.

Eventually, we approach an old airport. At least I think that's what it is. I haven't been to an airport since I was a kid. There are zombies everywhere, now, just sort of wandering around. It's fascinating in a horrifying sort of way. My corpse/captor grabs my arm again, pulling me in the direction he wants to go, and I don't fight it. We go into the terminal, through it, and then out the other side, emerging onto an airfield in the gathering dusk. It's gotten colder, and my adrenaline from earlier has disappeared, leaving me feeling so tired.

He guides me to a boarding ramp, leading up to an airplane. Climbing those stairs, seeing the door open and hearing it close, it hits me. I'm going to die here. I'll never see the sky again. I realize that I'm crying.

The seats are covered in… stuff. Clutter. In the low light I can't really tell what any of it is, and I'm too scattered to focus, anyway. The corpse touches my shoulder and I flinch, turning towards him. He drops his hand, ducks his head, and says "H…home". He points to a row of seats. There's nowhere to run, so I crawl to the furthest seat, huddling up by the window, crying a little harder.

I look up at him again, and he's still staring at me. After a second, though, he jerkily turns his head and walks past the row of seats I'm in. I don't know why, I don't care, I don't understand anything. The overhead compartment is covered in bloody fingerprints.

He's coming back towards me, shuffling quietly in the aisle. This is it. Perry, I'm sorry I was so mad at you. You were right, the world is going to hell and we're all going with it. You and I are just going a little sooner than some others.

He comes even with my seat row, then steps a little away from me, and sits across the aisle. He doesn't even look at me at first – which is a change, seems like he's been staring at me for hours, days, an eternity. He puts his hands up to his face and… fixes his hair? Pushes it back from his forehead. There's drying blood on his fingers.

He slowly looks sideways, towards me, his eyes fixed to the floor of the plane. "Not… eat." he says, then looks up to meet my eyes. Almost shy. He leans out over the aisle a little, pointing towards me. He turns his arm to point to his mouth, and chomps his teeth. His blood-stained teeth. Then he sort of shakes his head, still looking right at me.

I close my eyes, turning towards the window. I just can't even process this right now. It's been too long of a day, too bizarre. I think my brain shut down, back in that lab. Easier not to think, right now, because… this is not a situation I want to think about.

"Keep… you safe."

I can't possibly have heard that correctly. I look back over at him. He's got a perfectly serious expression, inasmuch as he has expressions. He hasn't actually hurt me. Yet. He's barely made any threatening moves. You know, other than kidnapping me.

He's a corpse. I hear my dad's voice in my head. _Corpses are uncaring, unfeeling, incapable of remorse_.

He stands up, surprisingly tall, then leans towards me. I gasp and huddle closer to the window.

He stops moving, just looking at me for a long moment, then he turns away. Walks up the aisle. Out the door. Off the plane.

Maybe this is my chance? One last shot of adrenaline tries to perk me up. I frantically look around to see if there are any other corpses on the plane, then peer out the window. It's getting dark out there. I can see red hoodie walking across the tarmac (turning around briefly to look back at the plane), along with three or four other corpses lurching along, seemingly aimless. I'm trapped, and I collapse back into tears.

I indulge in a good cry for a little while, but then the urgency of the situation intrudes again. Sure, the corpse left, but it's a good bet he's coming back – especially if, like he said, this is his home. What a weird concept, but I guess even zombies have to have somewhere to hang out. And in this case, somewhere to keep his stuff.

That reminder stirs me to action, and with a cautious glance out the window – still a few corpses wandering but no flashes of red out there that I can see – I make myself get up and start looking around. This guy has an amazing collection of junk. There's got to be some sort of weapon in here somewhere.

By the time he gets back, I've managed to find a small blade – not very sharp, but it's something. I'm probably still going to die but I'm too proud to do it lying down. Where there's life, there's… not always hope, exactly, but the possibility of it, I guess. I'm crouched on a seat, with the blade in front of me.

He walks into the cabin, looking a little less gross than before. His body language is weird, all jerky and uncoordinated, but I know that can be deceiving. He's tall, and lanky, like maybe he's just barely out of his teens. You know, before he died. His head swings as he searches the plane for me, then he starts shuffling in my direction.

The repeated bouts of terror have worn me out; I can only shiver and wait. He approaches me, staring with those creepy eyes. He walks close, seems to look me over, then turns around, reaching upward. He opens a compartment and takes out something.

I can't help it, I quaver out, "What are you doing?"

He turns back around, holding a small bundle that looks like… a blanket?

"Please… leave me alone."

He shakes out the blanket. What the hell is he planning to do with that? Smother me? He leans towards me, hands extended, and I can't move, caught between terror and curiosity. What the…?

His hands don't quite touch me. He lays the blanket over me, gently tucking it in above my shoulder so it won't fall. Seriously, what the hell? He straightens back up and gives me the weirdest look – definitely non threatening, almost… apologetic. _Incapable of remorse…_ My dad's voice is in my head again, but it's getting fainter.

"Why me?" The question comes out without conscious thought. If he's truly not going to eat me, then what does he want from me? "Why did you save me?" Unless this is just his way of keeping his snack warm for later.

He shakes his head a tiny bit, looking sad now. "D..don't…" he forces the words out; it's obviously difficult for him to talk. I have to listen closely to figure out what he's saying. He stammers a hard c sound, which eventually comes out as "cry."

Wait, what? "Don't cry"?

He reaches out a hand towards me – offering comfort? For a second I just stare, then I remember what he is, and flinch back. I won't let him take my only weapon, even if it is pitiful. I have to look away from him for a second. I am not seeing compassion on the face of a corpse. It's just not possible. _Uncaring, unfeeling._

He withdraws his hand, the movement prompting me to look at him again. For a second he just stands there, unsure, somehow vaguely sad. He drops his gaze, then turns. I watch him cross to the other side of the plane, looking in one of the overhead compartments.

I huddle into the blanket, putting the knife down on the seat next to me. Apparently I won't be needing it just yet. If he were going to attack me, he'd have done it hours ago. Right? Assuming the takeout theory doesn't hold water, and honestly, it sounds a little unlikely. Turning around again, peering around the edge of my seat, I can see his back. He's holding something. Bringing it up to his face then… blowing on it?

I barely have time to process that it's an actual ancient record before music starts playing. I have got to be hallucinating. Maybe the pharma salvage was a huge success, and we found some really good drugs… no, I can't convince myself. I couldn't possibly come up with something as bizarre as a zombie playing records.

A guitar begins to play. He turns towards me and I duck back behind the seat. Someone starts whistling a tune. I look sideways as he comes back even with me, my hand tightening on the knife, just in case. He's further away than a minute ago, and settles himself, sitting on the arm rest of the seat on the other side of the plane.

He's staring at me again. During lulls of the music, he says, "Safe." He's almost whispering. A pause while he gathers his breath. "Keep you safe." His soulful eyes are begging me to believe him. I just stare back, my puzzlement probably showing on my face.

He slowly closes his eyes, leans slightly to one side, then back to the other. It takes a moment to process that he's actually swaying to the music. The phrase "music hath charms to soothe the savage beast" pops into my head. I lean forward a little, unwillingly fascinated by this behavior. This is so far from what I'd been taught to expect from a corpse; he could be a different species. For another few bars I just watch, then the question slips out. "What are you?"

He heard me. His eyes open. I regret interrupting his enjoyment of the music, hating to break the spell. He meets my eyes briefly before looking down. Self-conscious? Almost gracefully, he slips backwards over the arm rest to settle into the seat. He leans back against the head rest, then turns to look at me again. His expression is… almost peaceful. Deliberately, he presses the control to recline his seat, still looking at me.

The music switches from whistling to words as he turns away to look at the ceiling. Does he do this a lot? "_Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you_," the singer croons. "_I'm still alright to smile_."

Is this another way to say, "don't cry"?

He doesn't move as I watch, and I find myself listening to the words of the song, trying to decide if he's actually using it to communicate. Maybe not. Sounds like a love song, if kind of a sad one. Then the chorus starts. "_Sad woman, take it slow. It'll work itself out fine. All we need is just a little patience_."

Right. That's got to be a message. He's still not moving, just staring into space. Seriously, does he ever blink? I guess he wouldn't really need to. The lack of threat, warmth from the blanket and the soft music is overcoming me. So far he hasn't hurt me, and I can't stay awake forever. I let my eyes close and my thoughts grow fuzzy. All we need is patience? Yeah, I don't think so, but maybe it'll do for now. _Just a little patience…_


	2. A Few Days

Chapter 2: A Few Days

The next thing I know, it's a lot brighter in here, and the music is gone. What a nightmare. I rub my eyes then open them to the realization that it wasn't a nightmare. I'm still here. I look across the aisle. He's still here, too, leaning forward and staring at me. As I move, he sits back, looking away with a soft little grunt. He peeks at me again.

Okay, fine. This is reality, and he's not an immediate threat. I push the blanket off. I stayed alive, Dad, and now I promise I'll be looking for my chance. Maybe if I can get him to leave again….

I look sideways at him to find him looking sideways at me. "I'm hungry," I announce.

He seems confused by that. Does he not understand? Is it too much trouble for him?

I sigh and turn to face him. "Just let me go!" I'll get my own breakfast, you don't need to bother.

He shakes his head earnestly. "N..not s..safe."

"Not safe," I repeat in disbelief, then sigh and lean back against the seat, rolling my eyes. "Uh-huh. Not safe." I consider my options. Look for a chance, Julie. "Well, then you're just going to have to go and get me some food," I announce. Looking across I add, for emphasis, "Cause I'm starved."

He's still staring at me, and I realize that I'm in no position to make demands. Softening my body language and turning a little towards him, I make myself say, "Please?"

He sits up, responding.

"I'd be very grateful for some food."

He nods. "O..Okay."

I smile. It's actually kind of cute how he responds to me being nice. Creepy, yeah. But cute, too. That's so weird.

I stay still as he lurches up from the seat and heads towards the exit. Halfway there, he pauses, turns to look at me, and holds up one hand, silently telling me to stay put. He turns, takes another half step, and turns back to check me one more time. I'm getting the feeling he doesn't really trust me. Still, he continues off the plane

I hold still until he's gone, then race to a window to check out the tarmac. Zombies are more active after dark, right? There aren't any in sight besides red hoodie boy, and he's not looking. This is my chance.

As quietly as I can, I de-plane and take off running. Everything looks clear. I don't even know where I'm going other than "away from here". I head for the closest strip of natural area. If I can get off the pavement, maybe I can get cover and hide, and work my way back home somehow. Anything's better than sitting passively.

I reconsider that theory, halfway across the field. A group of corpses emerge from behind a baggage train, between me and the ground, which has no cover to offer. I pull up short; they haven't seen me yet. Looking around, I spot a hiding place, and run under a nearby plane, crouching next to the landing gear. It's better than no shelter, but not by much. I watch the corpses. The one in the lead seems like she was killed in her nightgown and bathrobe; it was probably a nice set once.

Crap, another group of zombies emerges from a different baggage cart, between me and the woods, which are impossibly far away. I turn around, searching for better cover but finding nothing. I check out bathrobe lady again – she's sniffing the air… oh, crap, can they smell me? Is that how zombies hunt humans? Shit.

It hits me suddenly; that's what was going on in the lab yesterday, when the corpse smeared my face with something then did a sniff check. He must have disguised my scent. I wish I could tell my dad; that could be very useful information.

They're getting closer, groans and mumbling filling the air. I took a risk, coming out here, because that's what I do, take chances. Sometimes it works out. Not this time. Sorry, Dad, I tried. I watch, horrified, as the zombies follow my scent.

The feeling of a hand landing on my shoulder scares the crap out of me. I spin around to face this new threat. But it's my corpse in the red hoodie, holding out empty hands in a placating gesture. He checks me out as I gasp for breath. I look down, feeling bad about tricking him. When I look up, though, he's looking over my shoulder at the other dead. Assessing the threat. To me.

He looks back at me and says slowly, anxiously, "Don't run."

I can only stare at him. I tricked him, I ran away from him, and he's still trying to protect me?

He looks over my shoulder again, and I turn to check out the slowly approaching hoard. When I turn back, his hand is reaching for my face, a dark substance on his fingertips. I close my eyes involuntarily but try to hold still as he smears blood on me. It smells foul, but I guess that's the point.

He leans in for another sniff test. Apparently I pass; he nods and pulls back a little. I check the other zombies; they're still sniffing the air, maybe a little less certain of what they smell.

My zombie backs up slightly, grabbing onto my sleeve. "Come," he says, tugging gently. "Safe".

"Thank you," I breathe out, still not quite believing my rescue. I follow him out from the landing gear enclosure, straightening up and then freezing again. A whole other zombie hoard is groaning and shuffling right at us.

Red hoodie leans towards me, and I automatically turn to look at him. "Be dead," he says. What? That's exactly what I don't want to be. When he raises his arms and mimes a shuffle 'n' groan routine, I start to understand. He turns back to me, dropping the act. "O..kay?"

I nod to show that I've got it. I put my own arms up, one elbow bent for variety, and start making a gurgling noise. We take a few steps that way before he turns to me again and mutters. "S'too much."

Everybody's a critic.

The oncoming dead don't seem to have noticed anything, but I guess he's a better judge of them. I dial back the gurgle and drop my arms. We swim against the tide; he bumps into one of them. I try to swerve to avoid a collision without being too obvious.

On the far side of the pack, he leans towards me. "I t..told you, not s..sa..safe."

It's the longest sentence he's ever said to me. "Yeah, I get that." Okay, it was a stupid idea, but I had to try. "I really am hungry, though."

He doesn't reply, but he does lead me to the terminal, not back to the plane. It occurs to me that if I'd pulled this routine on Perry – tricked him, run into danger, and required rescue – Perry would have been pissed at me afterwards. The "I told you so" would have been followed by harsh words and a cold attitude. I peek at the corpse. It's hard to read emotion, but he doesn't seem to be upset, just a little anxious, looking mostly at his fellow dead.

We find a place that used to serve food, and he keeps guard while I poke around. Yes! Canned food - fruit cocktail, even. I grab a few cans and even get him to carry some, then we shuffle back to the privacy and safety of the plane.

Using the blade I found earlier, I make short work of opening the can, and pouring the contents into a plastic tray. I haven't had much fruit these past few years, as supplies ran low in the city, and nearby places for salvage were picked over. For obvious reasons we never tried to salvage anything from this airport, though, so they had a decent supply of rare items.

I'd forgotten how good peaches taste. After my first few ecstatic bites, I realize that I'm being watched. He's just standing there in front of me. I peek upwards, smiling awkwardly. How do I tell him to go away, that it's rude to just stare?

I don't have to. He shifts his eyes and turns jerkily away, like he's suddenly remembered some fragment of proper social behavior. I go back to eating while he walks away, giving me space. He's done that a lot, I realize. Except for when he was saving my life, he's been careful to keep a few feet away from me. Trying not to terrify me, I guess. Which is… surprising. Protective *and* considerate. There's obviously more going on in that head of his than he can manage to say.

I hear something rattle around up at the front, then he comes walking back towards me, his feet scuffing on the carpet, holding a bottle. Oh my god, is that…? When he gets close (but not too close) he stops, holding it out to me with both hands. He looks… hopeful? It's getting easier to read expressions now, easier to believe that there are real feelings behind them, even if they are rudimentary.

I reach out to take the bottle, smiling up at him. "Thank you." I pop the lid off, aware that he's backing away a little and sitting down. I look over at him as I take a swig. My eyes close as the beer hits my taste buds. It's not cold, but I'm not complaining. I look over at the corpse again, wanting to share the moment, even if it's only with him. "Oh, man. I can't remember the last time I had a beer." I go back for another spoonful of the fruit. "I guess you can't be all that bad, Mr. Zombie," I mutter to myself.

"M…my n..name…"

I look up in surprise, mostly that he'd responded to my comment. "You have a name?"

He nods eagerly.

Well, that's got my attention. "What is your name?"

His eyes close – in concentration? and he starts speaking – stuttering a little on the first letter, like normal… but no word seems to be following.

"Rrrr?" I prompt, curious.

He drops his gaze, looking discouraged. But he keeps trying anyway.

After all he's done for me, I should at least try to rescue him. "Does your name start with R?"

He looks up, brightening a little bit, and nods.

"Um…" I try to think of R names. "Robert?" He shakes his head. "Richard?" Not that one, either. "Randy?" It's getting harder to come up with possibilities, even though I'm sure there are thousands. "Rafael, Ricardo?"

He leans back against the seat, looking away. Giving up. It's unexpectedly sad to think that he knows he has a name, but doesn't remember what it is. "Why don't I just…. call you R?" I offer.

He looks back up at me like I just saved his life, and smiles.

I smile, too. "I mean that's a start, right?"

He looks away, testing out the syllable "R", looking almost goofily pleased with it. It's strangely endearing.

And now that I have something to call him… "I want to go home, R."

That wipes the happiness off his face, and he shakes his head violently. "N…ot safe."

"I get that," I tell him, trying to remain patient. "And look, I know that you saved my life." Twice, at least, but who's counting? "And I am grateful for that," I assure him. "But you walked me into this place, so I know that you can walk me out again."

He looks away, stricken. Thinking? He swallows, then looks back at me, not quite meeting my eyes. "H..have to wait." Looking towards the terminal, he adds, "Th…ey'll notice." He looks me in the eyes again, an almost pleading expression on his face.

If he were a human, I'd say he was lying. I don't know him well enough to be sure, though. Maybe he's just trying to avoid having to rescue me again. "How long?"

His face contorts. "F…few days?" he offers. "Th..ey'll for.. get." After a pause, he adds, "You'll be o…kay."

It hits me, then. I'm having an actual conversation with a corpse. "Are there others… like you?"

He just shrugs, looking kind of sad. I'll bet he's wondered the same thing, then. He's so different than any corpse I've ever even heard about; he's got to be highly unusual if not totally unique. What kind of life would that be? God, he must be so lonely.

"I mean, I… I've never ever heard a corpse talk before." Or had one buy me a beer, come to that. "I mean, apart from you groaning."

He just looks at me, looks down, and shrugs again. Apparently he never hears corpses talk, either. He's had more interaction with me these past few hours than probably with anyone for years. No wonder he doesn't want to let me go.

"Okay." He's totally lying. But you know what? A few days won't kill me. Hell, I owe him that much. "A few days, huh?" I smile, looking around, considering possibilities. Might even be fun; I haven't had a vacation in forever. Plus, there's beer. "Well, what am I supposed to do for a few days around here, anyway?"

He looks a little anxious to be put on the spot like that.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure we'll figure something out. You've been a great host so far. You know, all things considered." I smile at him, to let him know I'm teasing. He immediately looks more cheerful. "You have a ton of stuff in here." I glance out the window. "And it's a beautiful day. You know, when I'm not running for my life."

"Keep you safe," he responds, more smoothly now than before.

I smile. "I know."

He doesn't smile, exactly, but he looks happy. Then his eyes widen. "Know… what to… do."

"Oh yeah, what?"

"Go… for a… d…drive," he says, and I think he's proud of himself for coming up with the suggestion.

So, yeah, turns out R has access to a really sweet BMW convertible. It had the keys in it, but none of the zombies remember how to drive it, I guess. R didn't, either, exactly, although I didn't really realize that until after I let him try. But he took instruction well and we had a fun drive for a while.

Did I think about driving home? Yeah, a little. But that would have felt like betraying his trust, and I did that once already today. Plus, you know, he was in the car with me. Could have been awkward. And okay, one little part of my brain was still wary of provoking him.

I know my dad had to be going crazy, and I felt bad about that. Nora would have told him I was captured, though, not killed, so he'd be holding out hope that I'd somehow survive. I'll have to think up some story about that, when I do get home; I just can't see saying "Yeah, dad, it's okay, the zombie took really great care of me. He was really sweet, once I got over being terrified. And he was lonely, so I agreed to hang out with him for a couple of days. You should see his record collection."

It feels weird, calling R a zombie. I mean, I know he is. Be hard to miss, what with the grayish skin tone, speech impediment, and dietary restrictions. But he's a person, now. A good listener, very patient. With the aforementioned great record collection. And he really appreciates the things everybody at home totally takes for granted. Like vinyl having better sound quality.

Of course, he can take it a little too far, sometimes. He'll watch stuff for hours, like that little head-bobbing bird. A few minutes of that had me throwing peanuts at it. I've totally disrupted his normal placid world, but he's never looked so much as irritated with me.

I still don't know why he chose to save me. I remember when I first saw him, and he was staring at me in wide-eyed wonder. Come to think of it, I still don't know why I didn't shoot him. Maybe it was meant to be. Could have turned out worse.

Although that reminds me of Perry. I haven't really been in love with him for a while, I guess, but it still hurts to think of him dying like that, getting ripped apart and... I really can't think about that. But… he wasn't really living, even before then. He'd gotten so grim and dutiful and I could barely recognize him as the man I fell in love with. We were still technically together, but… I don't think it would have lasted too much longer, anyway.

And how did R know my name, when he didn't even know his? There's been speculation that corpses gain memories, at least temporarily, from eating a person's brains. Which is really disgusting, but it could explain the name thing. Everybody on the team knew who I was.

Yeah, that was it. R had blood on his face; he killed and ate somebody that day. Somebody I knew. It didn't have to have been Perry. Anyway, it was hard to reconcile that fact with the gentleness he shows me.

Trying to figure R out became a frequent pastime. Before he died, he was probably pretty cute. If you can get past the pallor, he's not that awful-looking now. Have I mentioned the very expressive eyes? I spent a lot of time thinking about those, too.

After that first night, I didn't want to sleep in a chair again. It felt a little weird, at first, falling asleep when I knew he wouldn't. But he helped me find a pillow and blanket to make a little nest in the aisle of the plane, and stretched out across from me as if he were going to sleep too. The dead don't sleep, I know that, but I appreciated that he would pretend, lie still for hours so as not to disturb me. I actually felt a little safer knowing that he'd be awake. Just in case.

"Yeah, it's okay, Dad. I had a corpse keeping watch while I slept. Safest I've ever been, probably." I smile sleepily, imagining his face, and drift off.

Okay, by the third day I was getting antsy. We were running out of things to do, and I was starting to feel guilty about Dad & Nora worrying over me. That might be why I brought up a topic I'd been avoiding. "R? Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, paying close attention. As always.

"My boyfriend…" Should I have said ex-boyfriend? We were still technically together. Never mind. "He died back there. Will he come back… as one of you?"

R looks very uncomfortable with the topic, though whether it was direct guilt or just by association I couldn't tell. He shook his head quickly, looking down.

I sigh. "That's good, I guess." I put my knees in front of me, and hugged them with my arms. "Something… happened to him." I pause. Like his dad getting turned into a zombie. Like his girlfriend shooting his dad in the head. "Well, a lot of things happened to him."

R puts his knees up, too, mirroring my position, not quite looking me in the eyes.

"But I guess, there just came a point where… he couldn't absorb… any more." I pause, trying to figure out what I'm trying to say. "It's just… in my world… people die, all the time. So, it's not like I'm not sad, that he's gone, 'cause I am."

R nods sympathetically, looking away.

"But I think I've been.. preparing for it. For a really long time." I feel a tear start to leak out, and reach up to wipe it away.

When I look up, I see R looking upset … because I was crying? He gets up and walks towards the record player, and I just sit, waiting. I've seen him play songs just because he liked them, but sometimes he uses them to say the things he can't.

A guitar starts, and R turns a sad face towards me. He comes back and sits closer to me than before. _Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood. When blackness was a virtue, the road was full of mud._ Okay, so far I'm not getting a message here. No, wait, he's putting his hand to his chest – to his heart? Slowly, he reaches the same hand out towards me. _I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form_ Gently, he rests his hand against my chest – my heart. I raise my eyes to his, trying to understand exactly what he's saying here. _Come in, she said, I'll give you… shelter from the storm_ This much emotion, this tenderness, should not be possible for him, and I'm once again amazed. "What are you?"

We just look at each other for a long moment, then he drops his eyes and pulls his hand back again. Giving me space, I think. Just like he always has. Oh, man, this is a lot to think about. "So, um, I'm going to go to sleep now," I say, feeling terribly awkward as I move away from him, towards my little pile of blankets. Has a corpse just said he loves me, or am I reading this totally wrong? "Goodnight." What could I even do about it, if I was right? He's not just any corpse, he's R. And he's kind of adorable. But, still… he is a corpse. This can't go anywhere. He knows it as well as I do. Doesn't he?

He's moving now, and I sneak a glance at him. Unlike previous nights, where he "slept" across the floor from me, now he's moving up towards the cockpit. I lay down and try to calm my mind. I really hadn't even thought of him that way. I mean, I like him, he's nice, but….

Was this why he rescued me? Why he kept me safe? Because he's… emotionally attached? That's enough to kind of freak me out. He hasn't said anything about it being safe for me to leave. Because it isn't, or because he doesn't want to let me go? A few days ago, the idea was kind of charming. Now it's not.

I have a get a grip here. He's not keeping me prisoner. If I tell him I need to leave, he'll help me. I'm… almost certain of that. I stretch out, trying to breathe deeply and evenly. I know where the BMW is, but it's too far for me to venture alone. My mind drifts, thinking of how I'm going to explain all this to Nora without her thinking I'm a head case.

I turn over. Okay, this isn't working, I'm not sleeping, and avoiding the issue isn't like me. I have to talk to him. I sit up, seeing that he's still in the pilot's seat. I take a step forward and catch a flash of movement. He's… eating something. Ohmigod. My stomach turns over.

I've got to get out of here. And to get to the exit I have to get closer to him. Quietly, I grab my boots and glide up the aisle. He doesn't turn, chewing slowly, his head sort of drifting sideways. I slide out the door and down the stairs without disturbing him.

I look around the airfield, aware that this is probably a bad decision, but I can't go back now. I slip into my boots and try to think. Yesterday, when we were poking around, I saw a shed with some tools. There's got to be something there I can use for self-defense. That'll be my first stop.


	3. Zombie Debate Society

**A/N – I wrote this story for myself. First, as I re-re-re-rewatched the movie, I couldn't help but try to imagine what was going through her head at certain points. I also wanted to address some questions I thought the film left unanswered, like, why didn't she drive away in the BMW that first day, how come she got over Perry so quickly, why was she sleeping quietly one moment and halfway across the airport the next. (I read and greatly enjoyed ChestnutBrumby's "Give Me A Reason" and confess I took a little bit of inspiration from her on that last question. If you haven't read it, and the other stories in that continuity, you really should.)**

**Also, I wanted to bring out the music a little more, because I adore the way the movie uses the songs.**

**I've had hours of fun writing this. I am beyond delighted that other people are also enjoying it. ****J**

**I'm sticking strictly with movie continuity, but I'll be adding in more scenes that I hope will mesh with and enrich the story.**

Chapter 3: Zombie Debate Society

* * *

I get about halfway through the terminal before I'm noticed, and then things go bad in a hurry. I fire up the weed-whacker, but there are six or seven corpses encircling me. I drop four of them, I think, before one of the bigger ones gets too close and grabs my weapon, tossing it away. He grabs me, snarling, and I realize I know him. He was one of the ones with R the other day, one of the ones who attacked the lab. Looks like he's going to finish the job tonight. I keep fighting, more out of instinct than from any realistic hope of escape.

Then, suddenly, a flash of red moves in front of my face, the big corpse is off me, and I realize R has some to save me. Again. I try to catch my breath. R slams another zombie into a ticket counter. A third is making an approach and I shriek, jumping back. R turns and knocks that guy down, too, picking up a piece of pipe and dealing a final blow.

And just like that, it's quiet. I look at him, wondering if I've finally done it, finally angered him. No, worse; I've disappointed him. He checks the ground for threats, then just looks at me.

"You said a few days," I respond. "It's been a few days, R." I sigh, feeling bad about my stupid freak-out, and add as gently as I can, "I have to go home."

He nods, still trying to catch his breath. "Stay together." His face contorts anxiously. "S..safe."

I sense motion from behind and turn around. It's the big one, getting back up from the ground. I back up; R can handle him better than I can. I expect him to charge, but he just takes two steps forward, looking at us. Looking at R?

"What?" He demands, frowning.

R steps forward, too, and simply says, "Julie".

"Living," the big one huffs, clearly not buying it. "Eat," he explains.

R shakes his head, stepping slightly in front of me.

"Eat," the other one says, low and persuasive.

I cross my arms, staring in fascination at the zombie debate society in progress. R doesn't say anything, but he doesn't back down.

"Eat!" the guy finally yells. I jump at the suddenness of it, and I see R startle a little bit, too.

Then I hear a distant sound that grabs both their attentions. Oh my god, that's a skeleton, at the far end of the room. And he sounds hungry. Or pissed. Maybe both.

I start backing away, and R does too. He takes a moment to address the other corpse, though. "We go," he says.

The other guy doesn't challenge him anymore. He says "eat" again, but sounds more confused than upset. Yeah, dude, this whole "not eating" thing took me by surprise, too.

Damn, a whole herd of zombies on the other side of that door we were headed for. I pull up short, reaching towards R. He stops, too. The skeleton's walking towards us, looking impossibly tall and gaunt. R grabs hold of my wrist and steers me towards some stairs, and then we're running, with the skeleton in pursuit. Thank God R can move fast when he has to; he keeps up with me pretty well. He's even in front for a little while, guiding me around a corner.

We get to a door and manage to shut it behind us in the nick of time. The skeleton shrieks and bangs on it as I try to catch my breath. R says "This way" and we head off down another tunnel. At the end is a half-open garage door that we both duck under.

And then stop dead, because there waiting for us are three (three!) skeletons, looking menacing. God! We can't go back, we can't go forward, even R can't take on all three of these guys…. then suddenly, a truck pulls up and slams into them, crunching them to bits. I gasp, trying to take it all in.

The driver of the cart – the big guy from inside – says, "Come with me."

R looks relieved, and starts moving forward.

"What?" I ask him, unbelieving. He stops and turns around. "No!" This guy was just trying to eat me! R looks at me, seeming a little confused. Then he turns back to the guy on the truck. Okay, so they're friends or something, but Mr. "Eat the Living" is not who I want to trust.

"Want… to help," the guy explains.

"Who the hell asked you?"

The guy kind of laughs at that, and looks at R. "Like… her."

R actually nods, like that's a compliment. Guys. Living or dead, they're all the same.

The driver extends a hand to me. R turns around, looking pleased. "It's o…kay," he says.

Right, what other choice do I have? And I do trust R. Fine. I move forward, grabbing the zombie's hand to pull myself onto the seat. "Sure it is." R grabs hold behind the seat. "Over there," I direct. "The garage."

Our driver whispers "Hold on," and takes off. It's a short trip, thank God. R's friend or not, I am not comfortable sitting next to this guy.

As soon as we stop, I slip down and move towards the BMW. "I am so happy to see you right now," I mutter. I turn back to check on R; he's off the cart, too, coming towards me, but his friend is reaching for him and he stops for a chat.

I turn back towards the car, but freeze; there's movement in the shadows. Shit. More zombies. Like, fifteen of them now. They come a little closer but then just sort of stop, just looking at me and sniffing the air. "Um, R?" I imagine I'd have to smell kind of weird by now, having hung out with the dead for a few days, although that didn't stop the guys inside the terminal from attacking.

I glance back to see R standing next to his friend. He turns at my summons, looking concerned, and moves forward, coming to a stop at my side. My nerves can't take much more of this. Before I can think about it, I reach for R's hand. I just don't want to feel alone, and he's been my rock for days now.

He looks down at our joined hands, then at me, and for a moment the world fades out as our eyes meet. He's looking at me like I'm his hope of salvation, and I suppose I'm looking at him that way, too. I'm sorry I doubted you, R. I need you, I trust you, I like you… you're kind of wonderful. Do you really love me?

Please take care of me, I silently beg.

I will, his eyes answer. And I know it's true.

He looks away, checking out the zombies, and I look at them, too. They seem… surprised. Staring at us and our joined hands, just shuffling in place. They're not acting aggressive. Some of them look kind of sad. Like we're stirring up memories. Can they feel the connection we have? Or is this just a "don't take another zombie's stuff" thing? I wouldn't have expected that, but… There has to be some reason they're not attacking.

R straightens, then takes a small step forward. My other hand comes around to hold his wrist and I can't do anything but follow, looking around wide-eyed. To my amazement, the crowd gives way, just watching us. This is beyond weird, but I'm not going to argue. As we get past them, R leans sideways to mutter, "You…. drive."

"Good idea." I let go of his hand with a pang of regret and hurry to slide into the driver's seat. R gets in next to me as the zombies continue to shuffle slowly away from us.

There's a scream from a skeleton. "Oh, god." He's running towards us, with several more following, but they're not close enough to stop us. We head out past the main terminal, and then we're on the road. Heading away from R's home, and towards mine.

We don't talk, although I sneak a few sideways glances at him. Silence is pretty normal for R, and I can't think of a thing to say. It's been a pretty emotional evening. After a while it starts to rain. A convertible no longer seems like such a great idea, not that we've got much choice.

What am I doing, anyway? I can't drive up to the wall like this.

The rain doesn't last long, but long enough to get me thoroughly soaked, and I'm starting to shiver pretty hard. R doesn't look cold; I guess that's one of the perks of being dead. "I have to pull over," I announce, as I see an exit I vaguely recognize. This used to be a pretty nice suburb, if I remember correctly. It's not so nice, now.

"This is one of the last neighborhoods my dad evacuated," I explain as we drive down an abandoned street and park at random. "Maybe these houses have food." At the very least there will be some shelter. I smile wryly to myself. _Come in, she said, I'll give you shelter from the storm_.

The door was locked, but R made short work of that, and then we were in. I closed it behind us, laughing softly at his methods. He was checking out the interior, but apparently it was as deserted as it had looked. I found and fired up a lantern, and started looking around.

"Cool. Look what they have!" I grabbed the Polaroid, opened it up. "I haven't seen one of these in forever. Cheese!" I took a quick picture of R, laughing at his shocked expression. "S'alright, see?" I gave him the picture, which he inspected. "Yeah." That's him coming into focus. My corpse in the red hoodie.

I smile fondly, then pivot to take another shot. "It's important to preserve memories, you know. Especially now that the world's on its way out." That thought has made me sad before, but right now I just want to enjoy the time I've got with my friend. "Everything you see, you may be seeing for the last time. Perry used to say that."

R looks uncomfortable. I wish I hadn't brought it up. Especially since I'm getting so close to seeing R for the last time. "Here, take a picture." I offer him the camera, then smile shyly as he eagerly snaps my photo.

We played with the camera for a little while longer, then found some candles and canned food. Yummy, canned beans. Still, they taste better than Carbtein. Different, anyway. R's quiet tonight, and I leave him on the couch while I explore upstairs. The bed looks really inviting, after the day we've had. I head back down, stopping nearly at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the railing.

"I'm exhausted." I smile at the sight of R trying to read a magazine. "The bed actually isn't too rotten, so… I'm going to go to sleep." It's going to feel weird to sleep in a room by myself. "Goodnight." I start up the stairs, then slow, and move back down a few steps as it hits me. I'm going to lose him tomorrow. "Um… R?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I was.. I was thinking…" Why is this so hard? "You know… you could… sleep in there. If you want." He's just looking at me. What's he thinking? I can usually read him a little better than this. "On the floor," I hastily clarify. "These houses creep me out, so…" He's not moving. "Okay." With one last glance, I head up to the bedroom.

Things have been kind of weird between us after my earlier freak-out. And it's not like he actually sleeps. Maybe it's for the best if we just… let things die.

Then I hear movement downstairs, and turn, smiling, to see him coming up the stairs. "Hey. Let's use this bedroom, the other one's too small." He ducks his head in a little nod, and I lead him into the room. There's some trash on this floor, but only a few sheets of newspaper. After the past few days I really don't care.

Okay, this is still awkward. This is ridiculous, he's my friend. "Thanks for keeping me company," I tell him quietly, sitting on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry I ran off earlier. I just…"

He looks down. "It's o..kay. Did… you…" his pauses keep getting longer. "see me?"

"I saw you eating, yeah," I say, softly. "Kinda freaked me out, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have."

Now he looks miserable. "Sh…should have," he disagrees in a low voice.

"R, it's not your fault. You didn't choose to be a zombie. Nobody does."

He shakes his head, refusing comfort.

A flash of light outside catches my eye, and I head towards the front window. R follows me but I wave him back. Peeking out between the curtains I see a small parade of military vehicles heading down the street. "Oh, shit, that's my dad." A beam of light shines towards us, and I reach out a hand to push R out of the way. "Get back."

I just watch the patrol as they pass, feeling absolutely no desire to go out and meet them. I'm not done. I'm not ready to go home. And then, what if… I turn slowly, studying R. "He would have killed you. If he saw you, he would have just shot you in the head and… and you'd just be gone."

It's scary, how much I hate that idea. He just looks at me. I guess there's nothing to say.

I touch his arm. "They're gone. Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

He shrugs a little, lying down next to the bed while I crawl under the covers, still fully clothed. Doesn't take me long to realize there's a problem with that. "Ug, these clothes are soaking, still. I'm gonna lay them out to dry."

As I get up, I see R with a semi-alarmed look. "Oh, relax." I'm not getting naked, just… shedding a few layers. I crawl to the other side of the bed and skin out of my long sleeve shirt. Feeling a little more self-conscious than expected, I tell him, "Don't look." I hear him agree, and quickly pull off the tank top. I put my hair up in a ponytail and then step out of my pants, leaving only a bra and panties. I lay them out on the carpet and then jump back under the covers. They're a little damp but it's a whole lot better than before.

R is lying on his back, eyes fixed to the ceiling.

I think back to our earlier conversation. "Hey," I say softly.

He looks sideways towards me, not moving his head.

"Do you have to eat people?"

He looks ashamed, again, and mutters, "Yeah."

"Or you'll die?" I want to understand, and maybe even get him to understand.

He pauses, slowly nods, then says even more quietly, "Yeah."

"But you didn't eat me. You rescued me… like, a bunch."

He shrugs against the floor.

I lean up, propping my head against my hand. He's watching me with rapt attention. "It must be hard… being stuck in there. You know, I can see you trying. And that's what people do. You know, we try to be better." I pause, thinking. "Sometimes we kinda suck at it, but… and I look at you, and you try so much harder than… any 'human' in my city." He looks away. Feeling bad about himself again, I bet.

"You're a good person, R." I'm getting emotional here. A tear leaks out and I roll onto my back. "Anyway…"

"I..it w…was m…me." His voice is softer and more hesitant than normal, full of regret.

I turn to look at him. He's not looking at me. "What was you?"

He doesn't say anything, but he reaches in the pocket of his hoodie and pulls something out. His hand shaking a little, he sets it on the bedside table. When I reach for it, I realize. That's Perry's watch.

I sink back against the pillow, holding it to my chest. It was R, that killed Perry. "I mean, I guess I kind of knew that." I knew Perry had been killed, and I knew R had killed somebody – somebody that knew me – but I hadn't wanted to put it together.

"You did?" He sounds surprised.

"Yeah…" I study the watch. "I guess, I hoped… that you didn't." I can't deal with this right now. "I'm sorry." I roll over, turning my back to him.

"Julie," I hear him say, but I don't respond. I can't. "I'm so … so…sorry. Julie."

Me too, R. Me too. A few more tears leak out, although I scarcely know who I'm crying for. Perry, me, R... maybe the whole messed-up world.

* * *

I wake up with a headache and clogged sinuses, which is what happens when I cry myself to sleep. I open my eyes and realize I've turned over again, and I'm now facing R. And he's…. asleep? Or just pretending? I turn away, quietly getting out of bed, pulling on my mostly-dried-out clothes. I look back, and he hasn't moved. I sigh. I have to leave him. Not because of what he said last night, just because I'm going back to the city and I can't take him along. He'd probably want to come with me, just to keep me safe, but I can't let him. I need to keep *him* safe. So, maybe, now's my best chance to do that.

Moving as quietly as I can, I slip downstairs. I keep running away from him, and I feel bad about that, but this time it's for his protection.

And maybe for mine. Because if I have to look him in the face it's going to be really hard to say goodbye, and there is no other choice.

It's a bright sunny morning. I hate it. It's weird being outside the city all by myself. It feels very unsafe, especially since I don't even have a pistol. My mind goes back a year or so ago, to the last time I'd been outside like this. I had talked Perry into going outside the wall. He wasn't too keen on the idea, but I told him it'd be fine. We'd just go visit his dad.

It should have been fine. Those construction crews are supposed to be on guard against attacks, they're supposed to be protected. I don't know what happened, but obviously something went wrong. Perry and I barely escaped with our lives.

Well, I did, anyway.

Perry was never the same after that. Finding out his dad was dead… seeing his dad's corpse coming at him with intent to kill… seeing his dad's corpse fall lifeless… knowing that his girlfriend had shot him… He said he didn't blame me. If I hadn't fired, Perry would have died then and there, and he understood self-defense. We all did, after all these brutal years. But I sometimes wondered if he'd ever forgive me for having persuaded him to go out there. For putting him into that position in the first place.

To add insult to injury, I'd been the one to shoot his dad's corpse; Perry had been too freaked out to defend himself… come to think of it… When we'd been in that lab a few days ago, how did R manage to kill him, anyway? I'd seen Perry up on the countertop, with his rifle. R had been down on the floor, totally focused on me. Did Perry choke, unable to fire? Or maybe… he just didn't want to defend himself anymore. Maybe… he just didn't want to live anymore. It wouldn't have taken much, just a little hesitation.

I wish I'd had more time to discuss it with R. Too late now. It'd just be so unfair if it was suicide-by-zombie, and Perry had managed to pick the one undead person in the world capable of feeling guilty about it.

The car starts sputtering, and soon stops moving. Out of gas. Lovely. I'm close enough to see the wall, anyway. I guess I'm walking. Probably don't turn around and look behind me more than twice. Three times, tops.

Doesn't take more than twenty more minutes before I'm there, and Kevin's harassing me into stopping and standing still for an eye scan. I suppose I get why he's so wary; I was out in enemy territory for almost four days, and usually nobody comes back from that in great shape. Then my dad comes out. "Is she okay?"

"Clear, sir," Kevin reports, sounding relieved. He steps aside and I walk past him. "Hi, Dad."

"I sent half a dozen units out looking for you. Nora said you were taken…"

"Yeah, I was." I give him my BS story, although I guess after this morning it's kind of the truth, if in reverse order. I mean, I found the car first, then holed up in the suburbs, and then "escaped" but still.

"Julie, are you sure nothing bit you?"

I try to be patient. Not sure it works. "Do I look infected to you, Dad?"

"We have to be safe."

"Yeah, I know." He's got more in common with R than he'll ever believe. "I know. I'm fine, though. I promise."

He actually hugs me then. Damn. "I thought I lost you."

"Well, you didn't, Dad." Not entirely. "I'm here."

"Welcome home."

"Yeah. Good to be back." At least here, I can walk around by myself without anyone trying to kill me. The food's lousy, but at least I can take a hot shower. That, I really am looking forward to. Dad escorts me back inside the wall.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks.

"Not really. I just, you know, did what you said. Stayed alive, waited for my chance, and then took it." And I can't really explain any of it, not without explaining about R, and I don't want to even try. Best case scenario, he'll think I'm nuts. Worst case, he'll try to go attack the airport. "I did learn one thing, though. Zombies can smell us."

He nods. "We suspected as much."

Okay. Might want to let your salvage teams know next time. "But I think we can fake 'em out. Didn't you wonder how Nora got away?"

He looks at me. "Yes, actually."

"There was a corpse attacking her, right on top of her, and I shot him. Some of his blood… or whatever… got on her. After that, I think they couldn't smell her any more. She was able to stay hidden."

"Good observation," he says, frowning intently. Wondering how to make use of it, I'm sure. "Can you get back to the house from here? I need to go consult a few people about this."

Of course you do. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Probably take a long nap. Didn't sleep much last night."

He smiles at me. "You do that. If I see Nora I'll send her over." He hesitates. "I'm sorry about Perry."

I bite my lip. "Yeah. Me, too." For so many reasons. I can see now that I'll be fine without Perry. Not so sure how well I'm going to do without R.

What a mess. I head home to shower and collapse.

tbc…

**Please review, reviews are like crack ****J**** Brigid1318 and NotMarge, I love you guys! Hope you're still enjoying…**


	4. Zombie Boyfriend

Chapter 4: Zombie Boyfriend

* * *

After a few hours of sleep, I feel more awake. Restless, too, but there's nowhere I need to be.

It feels so weird to be here alone. We have a big old house, and I'm the only one here. Which was perfectly normal, before. Sure, Nora practically lives here (Dad technically does, too, but he's gone so much he hardly counts) but it's not like she was with me 24/7. But today, the house just seems so… empty.

I keep thinking of things, and looking around for R, to share them with him.

Thankfully, Nora comes over after dinner, pulling me into a big hug as soon as I answer the door. I smile, a real smile. "Hey."

"You have to tell me_ everything_," is the first thing she says to me.

"I was planning to," I reply, drawing her inside. I can't tell dad but I can't not tell my best friend. At least most of it. We head up to my bedroom and wind up sitting on my bed.

"So… what happened?"

"I… made a new friend."

Her eyes widen. "Seriously? There's another survivor out there? Why didn't they come back to the city with you?"

"Yes, seriously, but… not another survivor." Not the way she means it, anyway. "And I didn't bring him back because Dad would have shot him."

She laughs. "No, really."

"Yeah, really. The zombie who dragged me out of that lab? He saved my life. A couple of times. I was with him. His name is R."

Her face scrunches up in confusion. "Your dad said... you escaped."

"Nope. I mean, I tried, a couple of times, but… no. R took me back to his place." Wined and dined me, too, I think with a small grin, if beer and cold canned food counts. "I spent three days with him. He was… nice." I blink a few times, thinking of how lonely he had been. How lonely he'd be again, now. "And then he helped me come home."

"You're kidding… right?" She's looking at me like I've lost my mind.

"Listen, he's not what you think." I know this is crazy, but I want her to understand. "He's different, nothing like what I expected from a corpse." And he wasn't the only one, either – there was the guy who drove the truck, the crowd that let us walk right through… "Maybe we never even properly understood them to start with."

She's frowning, stretching her arms into her lap, not looking at me.

"No, I'm serious, Nora! I mean, 'corpse' is just… just a stupid name - that we came up with - for a state of being we don't understand."

"Yeah," Nora says in a completely unconvinced tone, and I realize how crazy I sound.

"Oh, my God." _Corpses eat people, Julie. Remember that, when you get to feeling too sympathetic._ I cover my face in my hands. "What is wrong with me?"

Okay, so maybe corpses in general are exactly what we think they are. But R is different, he really is. I know she probably won't take this too well, but it's been building up all day. "Okay, I…" I look at Nora, warily. "I've got to tell you something. This is kind of weird," I warn. "Please do not freak out." I couldn't take it; I've lost one friend already today.

She shakes her head. "No."

I still almost can't believe it myself, but… looking down again, I gather my breath and my nerve. "But… I actually… miss him."

She takes a deep breath, then lowers her chin at me, looking much more serious. "You… you miss… him."

My hands come up again, all on their own. "I know, that's so stupid."

"Like, like you're attracted to him?" she continues, trying to follow my reasoning, maybe so I can see where it ends up.

"No, I don't…" That's not what I mean. Is it? I mean, he is really cute, in an undead sort of way.

Nora continues, relentless. "Like… he could be your boyfriend?"

I look at her, kind of shocked to realize how nice that sounds.

"Your zom… zombie boyfriend?" She smiles, holding her hands out in front of her, reaching out towards me, trying really hard to appear sympathetic.

I shake my head, looking away. I know this is impossible. She doesn't have to tell me that.

"I mean, I know it's really hard to… meet guys right now, with the apocalypse and stuff, trust me…. and look, I know that you miss Perry, okay." she adds softly. "But Julie, this is weird. Like, I wish the Internet was still working, so I could just look up whatever it is that's wrong with you."

I throw a pillow at her, smiling. "Shut up."

She laughs, and I know things are going to be okay. "Alright." Still, I think I'm ready to be done with this conversation.

Maybe she is, too, because she gets up off the bed, holding the bedpost for leverage.

"Okay, I'm getting ready for bed," I say.

Nora stops and wraps herself around the bedpost. "Hey," she says, smiling softly at me. "I'm glad you're back."

I sigh, but make myself smile. I'm not certain I'm glad I'm back, but… "Yeah."

She starts backing away, a smile playing around her lips. "Have sweet dreams about your zombie," she teases.

I roll my eyes. "Alright." I pull my knees up to my chest, laughing softly. Then she's gone. And I'm still restless. I just woke up a couple of hours ago, do I really think I'm going to be able to sleep again so soon?

My zombie boyfriend?

Honestly, I never thought of him in those terms until Nora said it, but now I kind of wish… I mean, it did feel like we had some sort of connection. I just. .. enjoyed spending time with him. He wasn't much of a conversationalist, true, but he communicated a lot without words. I wasn't lonely, when I was with him.

_He killed Perry_, I remind myself, then get more brutally specific. _He *ate* Perry._

What choice did he have? That's just what he was. Although, I have to admit, that argument has a glaring weakness. It was only minutes later that he made a different choice – he saved me. I mean, he had been staring at me before he encountered Perry. He was… attracted to me?

Perry, on the other hand, had probably shot him, and could have killed him. At that point, it was self-defense, right?

I threw a knife at him, sure, but that was no big deal, obviously, and then I was all out of weapons. No threat to him.

And if I'm right… about the memory transfer thing… he'd just seen some of Perry's memories of me. Maybe… maybe that's why he saved me. Maybe Perry dying saved my life. It fits. R wasn't hungry when he met me, and on top of his own prior reaction to me, he had just stolen some warm fuzzy feelings. He knew my name. Knowing someone's name turns them from an object into a person, it makes a difference.

It makes sense. In a weird way, I think Perry would have been… satisfied with the result. He didn't want to live anymore, anyway. And that was probably the only way he could have saved me that day. There were too many of them attacking; we were losing, badly.

That makes me feel a little better, but really it doesn't matter. I'm never going to see R again. No more salvage missions; I can't take that chance. Yeah, he changed, but without me there… I just don't know what might happen. Can't expect a guy to starve himself to death over an impossible dream.

Not to mention the fact that I snuck away without even saying goodbye. Three times, I ran away from him. I blink, thinking of how he must have felt when he realized I was gone…

Quietly, I walk across the room and open the door that leads out to the balcony. Maybe some fresh air will help. The door creaks a little, but maybe Nora won't hear it. I wander to the side, looking out across the wall, and sit on the balustrade. Yeah, okay, I miss R. I miss the way he listened, the way he 'spoke' with expressions and music, the way he said my name.

"Julie."

Yeah just like that. Wait.

"Julie."

That wasn't in my head.

_Holy shit. _

"Oh my god." I turn to look, and there he is, right there in my front yard looking up at me hopefully. "R?" I move to the side closer to him, leaning out, tucking my hair behind my ears. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you," he says, pretty fluently.

Panic battles with pleasure. "R…" Panic wins as I realize I can see him clearly in the street lights. "You can't just do that! It's dangerous!" A smile creeps over my face just the same. He came to see me!

"Grigio! Shut up!" I hear Nora yell from inside, and I turn towards the door. "I'm trying to sleep!"

She can't know he's here. "Uh, sorry!" I call back, then return my attention to R.

"Are you crazy?" I ask him, panic getting the upper hand again. "The people here, they're not like me! If they see you, you will get killed." His expression turns more serious. "Do you understand that?" Even as I ask, I know the answer.

He looks down for a minute, then back up to face me. "Yes."

He risked his life… existence… whatever… just to come see me.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Nora asks from inside the house.

Is she coming closer? Shit. Panic flares up again. "No!"

The door creaks open. "Okay, like, what is going on out here, Julie?"

I have time to glance back at R's concerned face, opening my mouth briefly, but with nothing to say.

I look at Nora. "Um…" Still nothing to say.

Nora comes to stand next to me, and follows my gaze down to the yard. She takes a huge breath, backing against the house in shock. "Oh my god," she breathes. "Is that him?"

"Yeah." I turn to check, and yep, he's still there. I think he might be just as panicked as I am, even if he doesn't show it as much.

He jerks a hand up and down in a parody of a wave, and manages a little grunt. Yep, he's panicked.

Nora just stares unhappily for a second, then manages to return the wave. "S'up."

At least she's not screaming. Or running for her gun. Yet. I hold out a placating hand towards her and look down at R again. "Hang on a second, I'll come down and let you in."

He nods, and looks around. Thank God the street is quiet tonight.

I push Nora gently ahead of me back into the house. She goes quietly at first, then stops dead in her tracks, swinging around to face me. "Julie, what are you doing?" Great, she's panicking, too.

"I am going to let my friend in before someone sees him."

Her eyes are wide and she's whispering. "He's a zombie, Julie! He'll attack you!"

"I spent three days with him," I remind her, impatiently. "It's fine."

She frowns. "He'll attack _me_!"

"No, he won't," I reply, certain now despite my earlier doubts. "But you can hide in your room if you want to. I'm going downstairs." I step around her and head down the stairs.

I take a deep breath before opening the door. He's there, standing on the porch looking anxious. "I'm sorry," he says, sincerely.

I move closer, searching his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry, too."

He looks down, then peeks back up and smiles nervously, and it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen. Almost before I realize it, I'm hugging him, my cheek against his bare neck.

He's stock still for a second, probably shocked, then his arms close gently around me. It feels wonderful.

"I actually missed you," I say.

It makes a lot more sense to me now than it did ten minutes ago.

"Me, too." He hugs me a tiny bit tighter, his chin on my shoulder.

"It's funny," I say, my eyes wanting to close, to savor the moment. "You feel warmer than I remember."

He nuzzles a bit closer to me. I never want to move. In the distance, though, I hear a siren, and it brings me back to reality. I pull my head back a bit. "That's the patrol." We both look towards the source of the sound. I step backwards, tugging him along with me. My turn to keep him safe. "Come on, we better get you inside."

He steps past me as I close the door, and I turn to see him standing still, looking around. "Come on." I grab him by the arm, not quite daring to hold his hand as I lead him forward. "You're lucky my dad got pulled into some emergency thing." I let go of him as we start up the stairs. "You're safe here tonight, R, but after that… I don't know what we're going to do." He follows me, but more slowly, looking around.

I glance around, too. We've got almost as much stuff piled up around here as he does in his plane. Although our stuff is more practical; ammo and emergency rations. No snow globes. "So how did you find me?"

He stops on the landing, looking nervous again. "Remember… when you took Perry to see his dad?"

I blink. That was when we took that secret route past the wall…

"He… he did, too."

"Oh."

Okay, then. I guess that confirms the memory transfer thing. And apparently it's not that temporary.

_Moving on... _

"Yeah, that. I wish I hadn't."

He looks down.

"Not because of you, R! I'm… glad you're here." I admit, shyly. "It's just, well, after what happened that day… with his dad…"

R meets my eyes, understanding. Sympathizing without words. Words are overrated.

"He was never the same after that." I sigh, then decide I need to share this, to confess, to reassure him. "Part of him died that day, when I shot his dad. His dad's corpse." I glance upwards, making sure Nora's not in sight, then add quietly, "You're not the only one who killed him." I can't look at him, so I head up the second flight of steps. After a moment, I hear him following.

My bedroom door is open. I stop, waiting for him to catch up, then wave him towards my room. He catches hold of my sleeve, and I turn to look up at him.

Wow, when he's not slouching he's really tall.

He stares down at me. "Thank you," he says quietly.

I nod. Maybe I'm imagining it, but it seems like he's letting go of some of the guilt. That's good. I don't want him to think he's not good enough for me, or something stupid like that.

_Wait, what?_

He's not my boyfriend, he _can't_ be my boyfriend, no matter what happened with Perry. I have to remember that. Damn Nora for putting the idea into my head.

"Come on," I say, tilting my head towards my room. He follows me in.

Not sure if I'm happy or not when I see Nora's still there. She's fidgeting, standing by the couch, still kind of freaked out. I smile. Nice to see she trusts me. "Nora, this is my friend R. R, this is Nora."

He kind of ducks his head in acknowledgement. He's gotten a lot better at talking, but he's still uncomfortable around her. That needs to change, if they're going to be in the same room. I lead R over to the couch and motion for him to sit down. "You two need to get acquainted," I announce. Nora sits gingerly on the ottoman, facing him.

Then I abandon them there, under pretense of checking that the balcony door is properly closed. I need a little space from him, after that conversation, and she deserves it.

There's a moment of charged silence, then Nora plunges in, leaning forward and asking, "How'd you die?"

Of course she would start with that. I lean against my desk, just watching.

"I don't… remember," R answers, uneasily.

"How old are you?"

He shrugs, watching her warily.

"Because you could be twenty-something, but you could also be a teenager, you know, you have one of those faces?"

"Oh, my god." Okay, this was a bad idea.

"And I can't even smell… you don't smell rot-" she turns towards me, "He doesn't smell rotten!"

Okay, now R is the one freaked out, murmuring something indistinct.

She leans in to examine him again. "Amazing!"

"Nora, he didn't come here for an interview! Stop!" I cross the room to sit on the couch next to R. I draw up one knee in front of me as I turn sideways to face him.

He's still watching Nora like she's going to attack him.

"Why did you come here, R?"

He turns towards me, his expression lightening. "To show… everyone," he starts, smiling a little.

"Show them what?"

He looks so hopeful. "That we can change."

I sigh, wishing it was that easy. "R, no one here is ever going to buy that!" I hate to burst his bubble, but he needs to understand. "Not that we could get you even close enough to tell them."

I can see his hope fading, and it's a terrible feeling.

"As soon as they saw you, they would blow your head to bits."

He turns to look at Nora, the closest "they" at hand.

She nods, sad but sympathetic. Maybe embarrassed, too. The only reason she's not blowing his head to bits is that she trusts me.

"Wait a minute, did you say we?"

He nods. "Lots of us… changing." He pauses and smiles. "Dreaming."

I take a deep breath. "That's kind of a big deal."

_Understate much, Julie? _

Yeah, I guess he really was asleep this morning, after all. It hadn't really registered, at the time, how strange that was. Shit, now what do we do?

"We h-have to move fast," he continues, his face getting more serious.

"What do you mean?"

"Bonies… chasing me." He leans in a little, for emphasis. "Chasing us."

Great. And we're both… in the city, which means... I turn to Nora. "Okay, we have to go to my dad."

She frowns. "No, that is a very bad idea."

"No, Nora, he was a reasonable guy once."

"No, no, I think you are confused. It was your mom, that was the reasonable one. It was your dad that grounded you for a year for stealing peach schnapps!"

I lean back, covering my face as I realize she's right.

"Are you serious? It's your dad who likes to…" she falters a bit and turns, pointing to R. "shoot corpses in the head."

He sits back, alarmed.

I sit forward again. "What other choice do we have, Nora?" I look at R. I need him to be safe. We can't defend ourselves properly, and Dad needs to know what's going on.

I deflate then, remembering. "Still, we'd have to get him through the city." He managed to get here, yeah, but Dad's headquarters is in a densely populated area. "Someone would definitely see you."

"There isn't much time," R says.

We might have to risk it. Maybe I could go see Dad by myself? Not that I want to leave R.

"We could fix him up," Nora says into the sudden silence.

R and I both turn to stare at her. "What?"

She's staring thoughtfully at R's face. "I have some makeup that I've been saving for a special occasion that obviously isn't going to happen."

"Yeah, yeah, we could," I agree, hope blooming again. I inspect him. "We could put on a little bit of foundation… maybe a little blush…" I turn to smile at Nora. "Probably a lot of blush."

R may have forgotten his entire life, but he obviously remembers enough to know that guys don't wear makeup. He looks vaguely horrified at the suggestion.

"No way," he stammers.

My grin widens. This is going to be fun. "Yeah, way."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks Brigid1318 and Alana-kittychan for reviewing! ****J**** Don't worry, there's more… should be seven chapters, total. And apparently the further along we get the more original stuff I'm adding in… just my personal interpretation of how things were going when the camera wasn't looking. Hopefully it's pretty seamless.**

**Special thanks to NotMarge for the editing suggestions – as you've no doubt noticed, I took some but not others – I like using actions and inner monolog as dialog tags, otherwise I can't keep track of who's saying what. But there were parts where I think you improved it, so, thanks bunches! All mistakes are my own…**


	5. Daddy Said Stay Away from Juliet

Chapter 5: Makeovers

* * *

R may have forgotten his entire life, but he obviously remembers enough to know that guys don't wear makeup. He looks vaguely horrified at the suggestion.

"No way," he stammers.

My grin widens. This is going to be fun. "Yeah, way."

I turn to Nora again. "Where is it? Do you have it here?"

Her smile fades. "I'll have to run home. Give me twenty minutes."

I nod, thinking fast. "That's okay. We'll be here." I've got to get R's clothing a little cleaner. And him, too, come to think of it.

"Okay, then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I grin. "That leaves a lot of territory."

She winks. "I know." Then she's gone, and I turn back to R.

He's still looking uneasy.

I reach out and briefly touch his thigh. "It's going to be okay, R. I promise. Trust me?"

His eyes seem to soften and his face relaxes. He nods. "I do."

"While Nora is gone, we have to get you clean. Do you remember how to take a shower?"

He shrugs. I give him a look, and he adds words. "Not sure."

"Well, I know you've washed sometimes, over the years. Especially," I give him a little smile. "These past few days. Thanks for getting the blood off your face."

He looks pleased and embarrassed. "Thought you'd be… less terrified."

"And it worked. Well, it helped." My smile widens. "The blanket was a nice touch. I think that might have been the tipping point."

"I thought it was… the beer," he says, smiling.

I laugh. "Maybe so." _He is so frickin' cute I can hardly stand it_. And I'm much too close to him, because that is a dangerous road to travel. I stand up, smiling to ease the transition. "I'll show you the bathroom. Can you, um, shove the clothes out the door once you're out of them?"

Naked R. In my shower. Mind. Blown.

_Okay, Julie, moving on... _

"I can rinse them out for you, at least." I glance down at his jeans. "I don't even want to know what some of that gunk is."

He looks down, too. "Uh, yeah." If he had the capacity for it, I think he'd be blushing right now.

I think about reassuring him, but maybe it'll work best if I just act like it's no big deal. "Come on, I'll get you a towel."

* * *

As I'm washing up, it occurs to me to worry that Nora might freak out again. Damn, if she comes back armed, or tells Kevin… I shouldn't have let her out of the house. But she's talked to R, she knows he's not a threat. And she wouldn't betray me like that. I will myself to calm down. She trusted me, I need to trust her.

Still, when I hear the front door open I startle, and hesitate for a second before going out into the foyer. Nora's there, holding a bag and grinning. "Is he ready for his makeover?"

I quietly let my breath out. I shouldn't have doubted her. "He's still in the shower."

She smirks at me. "And you're not in there with him?"

"Nora!" I can feel myself blushing.

"What? I can see how you look at him."

"Must I remind you that he is, technically, dead? I'm pretty sure that means no sex drive."

"Shame."

I give up being embarrassed and laugh. "Really, Nora."

She grins, then adds, "It's nice to hear you laughing again, Jules. And, seriously, I don't know how things are going to work out for him, but I'm with you all the way."

"Thanks, Nora."

"Well, not all the way, because at a certain point you might want some privacy, but…"

I roll my eyes and head back towards the tiny laundry room. R's t-shirt should be dry by now.

"I'll get this stuff set up in your room," she says, and heads upstairs.

* * *

Nora's annoying musical joke aside, giving R his makeover is kind of nice. He's very patient, which I'd expected.

Nora breaks the silence, also as expected. "So, Julie, when did you decide to trust this guy?"

I dab some foundation on his forehead. "Oh, probably after he rescued me the second time. The morning after I got there, I ran away and got myself into trouble."

"Yeah? How'd you get away?"

I look up to one side and kind of smile. "I asked him to go get me breakfast. So he did. Did you think I'd run, R?"

"Thought you might," he admits. "Hoped you wouldn't, but…"

Remembering the way he kept looking back at me on the way out of the plane, that doesn't surprise me. "So why did you leave me there, then?"

"You needed food." He looks away for a moment, thinking. "And you said please."

I smile. "That did seem to astonish you."

Nora laughs. "You two are so cute."

We both look at her like she's crazy, but she pretends not to notice.

"Anyway, after he saved my life the second time, he got me breakfast."

"D… don't forget the beer," R adds.

"Beer for breakfast! My kinda man," Nora enthuses.

"And then we got on a first-name basis and became friends," I say, deliberately skipping over tons of details. That time with R was special, and I'm not certain Nora would understand. I don't want to have to try to explain some of the emotional moments we've had. I want to keep them for me and R. I see him looking at me, and I smile softly.

Then I see Nora looking at me, and I turn away to get some more foundation on my make-up sponge. There are things I want to talk about with R, and things I want to talk about with Nora, but not much I want to talk about with both of them at the same time. "So, Nora, are you back together with Kevin yet?"

She rolls her eyes, successfully diverted. "Never going to happen. He's such a stick in the mud – when I finally made it back from that salvage mission, he yelled at me! Like it was my fault. It's just like when we were in high school…" and she's off to the races.

I listen with half an ear; I've heard it all before, multiple times, and she doesn't really need much in the way of responses. I catch R's gaze in the mirror and wink at him. He smiles, just a little, and the makeover continues.

* * *

Once R's jeans and hoodie are dry, and his face is done, we send him into the bathroom to change. We take a few minutes to tidy up, then go check on him. He'd been inspecting his reflection, but turns when we open the door. I blink, observing the finished product, all at once.

"Hold up," Nora says. "You look hot!"

I can only agree. Red is a good color on him, and his hair has dried nicely. It's kind of startling to see all that color in his face, even if I did put a lot of it there myself.

He smiles politely, maybe a little nervously, and we head downstairs.

Nora and I are carrying pistols, just in case. R doesn't really know how to use guns and probably wouldn't be that good with one anyway, so I don't give him one. He doesn't seem to mind. I like the lack of macho posturing. Although, of course, he's plenty deadly without a weapon, so maybe that accounts for it.

We don't talk much, as we walk through the city. R is looking around, probably equal parts interested and apprehensive. He's standing up so straight it's unnatural. I keep peeking at him, and after the third or fourth time, he notices. "What?"

"Nothing," I reply airily. "It's just… you look nice."

I can't quite tell how he reacts to that.

My doubts are starting to catch up to me. "I don't know how my dad's going to be. He gets kind of crazy. This.. might not work."

"Hey." He slows down, reaching for my hand. I stop and turn, looking up at him. "No matter what," he says earnestly. "We stay together."

That's an easy thing to agree to. I can feel his hand around mine, not quite as cold as it seemed yesterday, and it's nice. I can't look away from his face. He takes a few breaths and continues. "We're changing everything."

"I know." Earlier, he'd told me about his friends, and what we started. This isn't just about protection from the bonies, this is about… exhuming the whole world.

"Stay together," he says again. "Promise."

"I promise." I am done running away from him.

He nods, satisfied, still gazing at me. He'd probably be happy to keep staring for hours, knowing him, and I might be, too, but we have things to do. I tug on his hand, starting to move forward again. "Come on," I say softly.

Nora is waiting for us. "Hey, it's game time. Let's do this."

_Ready or not, here we go._

As we approach the headquarters, a soldier steps forward. Naturally, it's Kevin. I move towards the front of our group, dropping R's hand reluctantly.

"Hey, where are you guys headed?" he greets us. He's holding his rifle but at least he's not pointing it at me this time.

"To see my dad, Kevin."

"Miss Grigio," he says, ignoring Nora, "I can't let you guys in. We're on high alert around here."

I glance around. "Why? What's going on?" I mean, I know there's a zombie in the city, but they shouldn't have a clue.

"It's classified."

I can practically hear Nora roll her eyes. She steps forward, saying, "Alright, well, we have our own classified business, so come on…"

He backs down, moving to one side, military training evidently no match for the powers of a sarcastic ex-girlfriend. We move forward, and then I hear Kevin greet R.

_Oh, crap_. R's not good at talking to new people. Nora and I turn, and I'm wondering frantically what I can do.

R turns kind of sideways towards Kevin, looks him in the face, and manages a "How are you?" that doesn't sound completely unnatural. He looks pretty pleased with himself about it, too.

Nora goes to get him. "He's fine," she says, dismissing Kevin as she pulls R past him. Kevin stares at us as we go, no doubt trying to remember where he's seen R before. The city's too small not to see everyone at some point.

The offices at the front of the building are deserted, so we move on to the cavernous warehouse space behind. There are military vehicles, piles of supplies, and soldiers moving around purposefully. We slow, and I look around for my dad.

"Okay, you guys wait here," I direct Nora and R. I spot Dad across the way and start walking over to him. I don't want to leave R, but I need to start this conversation by myself. It won't take long for Dad to realize he's never seen R before, and then he won't be interested in listening to me anymore.

I just wish I knew what to say. I've been thinking about it for hours but… nothing brilliant has occurred to me yet. _Hey, Dad, I met this zombie… _ Yeah, that's a non-starter. _Hey, you know that plague? It came out of nowhere, and I think it's going away again. Mostly._ Maybe not. _Let me introduce you to my zombie boyfriend… _ That's downright awful.

I move forward anyway. This is risky, but there really aren't any safe options at this point.

He sees me coming and sighs. "What are you doing here?" He leaves his companions behind and meets me in the middle of the warehouse.

That's too complicated to answer. "What is going on? What is all this?"

"Not sure," he says, walking. "But it's not good. We've been getting reports that there are sizeable packs of skeletons and corpses coming toward us. We don't know why…"

I think I know why, but he doesn't pause.

"…but if they're here to attack, there's nothing we can do about it. Too many of them, too few of us." Wow. That's unusually grim, even for Dad. I look towards the side of the cavernous space to spot a red hoodie. Nora and R are keeping up with us, that's good.

"So I want you to get home, lock down the house, I have the gun there, the Ruger SR..."

"This?" I pull it out of my waist band, pointing it away from people and keeping my finger off the trigger. Just like he trained me. "Yeah, okay, I need to talk to you."

I lower the gun and draw him to one side. We stop next to a jeep.

He points towards all the activity with his clipboard. "Julie, not now…"

"Dad, it's important." I'm actually a little surprised when he stays and listens.

Okay, here goes nothing. "This is going to sound really crazy, but… I think the dead… are coming back to life."

He looks away, absently agreeing with me. "That does sound crazy."

"They're changing, Dad," I persist. "They're, they're, I don't know… they're somehow curing themselves." I know it's impossibly vague but I can't explain what I don't understand.

I have his full attention now. "You think they're curing themselves?" he asks mildly. "How's that?"

"I saw it. It is really happening." Maybe I should have started with explaining why the skeletons and corpses are heading our way…

He shakes his head and launches into a lecture. "No, you know what is happening, Julie? What's happening is every day, there are more of them and less of us. They are not curing themselves." His voice gets a little louder as he pours on the sarcasm. "We are their food source; they are not becoming vegan, okay? They don't eat broccoli, they eat brains, your mother's and your boyfriend's included."

That was a low blow. I just stare at him, feeling frustrated at his unwillingness to believe me.

"Okay?" He's looking angry now, gesturing in my face for emphasis "So, I want you to wake up. Okay?"

I want to reply but the anger is choking me. This was stupid, he's never going to listen.

"Get yourself home," he orders, walking past me. "Barricade yourself in the shelter." He turns and looks back at me, still moving forward.

Oh shit, Dad is heading right towards R, who has a determined look on his face. What is he doing?

"There's enough stuff there that you can hold out for…"

Dad bumps into R, and they both step back a little. I scurry around Dad to stand protectively next to R, grabbing his hand. R looks Dad straight in the eye and says, "Hi."

Dad looks at me, and then back at R, considering. "Who are you?" he asks.

I take a deep breath. "This is R," I say.

"Well, I didn't ask you," Dad says, his tone deceptively mild, as he lays his clipboard down on the jeep, "I asked him." He doesn't take his eyes off R. "Who are you?"

I can see the panic creep into R's face as he tries to talk. Nothing's coming out.

Dad studies him, and the panic starts to creep up on me, too. The light in here isn't that great, but the makeup was never going to stand up to close inspection.

With barely any change in his tone of voice, Dad says, "You're a corpse?"

Oh, God, this isn't going well. "He saved my life," I say, sounding more defensive than confident. "He took care of me." I stare at Dad, scared at his lack of reaction. I turn towards R, who is studying the ground. "I triggered something in him," I try to explain, turning back to face Dad, "and that must have… sparked something in all of them…"

Dad nods thoughtfully, then bursts into action, pulling out his own gun and backing R up until he crashes against a metal cage. "Now he's triggered something in me," he says, one hand gripping tight to R's hoodie, his gun aimed square at R's face.

I move to stand next to R again. "Dad…"

"No," R manages to say, finally finding his voice. "We want to help."

Dad pauses for a moment, shocked, and I feel a flare of hope. "Please," I add, "They don't want to attack us, they want to help."

"We're... we're getting better."

"No," Dad says, moving in closer. "Things don't get better, they get worse," he says with a terrifying little smile. He gestures with the pistol. "People get bit, then they get infected, then I shoot them in the head." The gun is back in R's face now.

"No! Dad…"

"That's what happened to your mother," he says in a brutally casual aside to me, "and that's what's going to happen to him."

The barrel of the gun is pressed to R's forehead. R's not fighting back, at all, and his eyes are closed. No, things can't end like this, they just can't… I hear the click of his gun cocking, but before it can fire, another gun sound intrudes.

Along with Nora's voice, which is saying, "I'm really sorry, Mr. Grigio."

I gape at her. She's pointing her own gun at dad's back, her hand steady, finger on the trigger. She looks at me. "Go," she tells me. Us. "Get out of here and be safe, no matter what."

R is gently removing Dad's hand from his hoodie, and sliding sideways towards me. I curl a hand around his arm. Declaring my loyalty.

"Julie," Dad says, looking at me, still not comprehending what's going on here.

"I have to go." I grab R's hand and we take off running, leaving Dad pointing his pistol at empty air.

tbc…

**A/N: Yes, this one's shorter, sorry about that, but it was a good break point. As an apology, I might draw your attention to my YouTube channel… search for "Pam Jernigan". I've got a music video that NotMarge seems to like ;) and I put up just a little thing of Julie & R, discussing Perry… with an unusual comparison. I've got some WarmBodies playlists, too; you might find something new. The chapter title, btw, is from one of my favorite Warm Bodies music vids. :)**

**Alana, Brigid & NotMarge…. Thanks for the reviews. Welcome Azalea's Magic! Woo-hoo, I have four people reading this story now! LOL**

**I kind of feel like my extra bits are all basically re-visiting the earlier parts of the movie, but it's a movie we all love, so that's okay, right? ****J **

**See you tomorrow… and I have to tell you, all day long I'll be checking my email, hoping a new review has been posted… you don't want me to be disappointed, do you? Believe me, I appreciate every word. More importantly, I hope you liked this!**


	6. Take the Plunge

Chapter 6: Take the Plunge

* * *

We're around two corners, in a darkened alley, before I feel safe enough to slow down. "Okay, that could have gone better."

"Have to warn my friends," R reminds me.

"Where?"

"The stadium."

The alley is suddenly flooded with light as the breach alarm starts sounding. "Shit." We start running again. "Get on the subway!" There's an entrance not too far away, and we force our way through.

The blare of the siren recedes as we walk quickly through the dark and quiet tunnels, sloshing through a few puddles as we approach the stadium. There's an open area up ahead, and… I slow down almost to a halt. R had told me he had about fifteen other corpses waiting. The crowd above is… a lot bigger than that. "Whoa."

They're standing fairly still; that zombie patience at work, I suppose. Seeing that many of them together is… kind of scary. I move closer to R and look up at him. He's smiling, and moves out in front of me, taking the lead.

I see R's friend making his way to the front of the crowd. It's so quiet I can hear him softly saying "Pardon me… coming through… he's my brother." He stands about a foot in front of the crowd, and we come to halt before him.

"R," he says, in that whispery tone. R nods a greeting in return, looking at the crowd. "Julie," he greets me.

"Hi," I say. Still not entirely comfortable with the guy, but R trusts him so I will, too.

"Ready for… a fight," he tells us.

"Yeah, I can see that," I answer, nervously looking at all the corpses standing there, all looking at me.

"S… soldiers coming," R reports. "Bonies closing in."

As if on cue there's a not-distant-enough scream, and noise from above grabs all our attention. This section of the stadium has a large skylight, for whatever reason, and we can see the skeletons on top of it, beating on the glass. There are way too many of them.

"They're here now," R's friend states the obvious.

"Keep them out," R tells him.

"We will." His friend looks upwards again, and says simply, "Run."

Don't have to tell me twice. And all of a sudden I have no hesitation whatsoever in running through a huge crowd of zombies. The bonies are after us; we have to move away from the city. Behind us I can hear glass breaking and bodies falling into the crowd we just ran through. Also screeching and groaning as battle is joined.

We run out onto the deserted baseball field. I keep an eye out behind us and shoot two skeletons. Guess that training course on how to shoot and run away at the same time really paid off.

After that, it's just running, trying to avoid bonies and soldiers, both. Going "anywhere but here" as quickly as possible.

As we head towards the higher levels of the stadium, I hear R trip behind me. I swing around, aiming for the bony that has him pinned down, but then I'm knocked flat by another one. I'm on my back, trying to hold it off, my gun knocked out of my hand. I can hear R fighting but mostly I'm focused on keeping my arms straight and the skeleton too far away to bite me.

Suddenly, it's swept sideways and I'm free. R helps me to my feet. "Thank you," I say fervently, then we're running again.

We're reaching the top level, and I don't know where we're going to go next, if we haven't left them all behind yet… coming around a corner, I come to a dead stop. There are four… eight… too many bonies in front of us, spread out so there's no hope of going around them. I try to catch my breath as I look around frantically for a way out.

R grabs my hand and pulls me backwards. We're heading for an emergency exit, I see, but for some reason that sets off alarm bells in my mind. He thrusts the door open and I grab onto his hoodie, pulling us both to a stop. This stadium has been abandoned for years and any usable metal was long since salvaged. Including the fire escapes.

We're on a small platform, hundreds of feet above a shallow ornamental pool. The sun has come up. Good thing, too, or we'd have kept running and plunged to our deaths.

I look back into the stadium, seeing the bonies advancing on us, and look up at R. "It's over."

He glances their way, too, then looks down at me, shaking his head. "No. Keep you safe."

I love that he still wants to… I wish I'd had the chance to kiss him… whether he's technically alive or not just doesn't matter anymore. He's just R, and I think… I think I love him. Too late.

"You'll be okay," R tells me. I wish I could believe that. I look back and forth between my should-have-been boyfriend and our swiftly advancing death. I just can't seem to move. There's nowhere to go.

R pulls me towards him, hugging me tight, pivots to one side and… _oh, shit…_ falls off the ledge. Backwards. I'm facing the ground, but I can't see it, sheltered by his larger body. He must be planning to take the impact, to break my fall, to sacrifice his body to save me.

I don't have the breath to scream. R adjusts his hold on me as we fall. My hands are still clutching the front of his hoodie. _This can't be the end, I can't lose him now…_

We hit the water, and I'm jarred by the impact. Surrounded by liquid, my survival instinct kicks in, and I try to move upwards, towards air. I actually make it, standing more-or-less upright in water that comes to my shoulders. I gasp, and look around frantically. "R?"

He's not emerging. I look beneath the surface and glimpse him; he's just lying there, eyes closed, not moving. No, no, no. He's not allowed to die on me. Taking a deep breath, I dive down and grab him by the shoulders. I drag him back with me to the surface, and at first he's utterly unresponsive. "R? R, please, please…"

His eyes open, and he shakes his head, getting his bearings, sinking partially down into the water again until he finds his footing and emerges far enough to start breathing again. "You okay?" I ask, running my hands over his head, holding his neck. His hair is plastered to his head, water running in his eyes, and I've never seen a better sight than him blinking at me in the sunlight.

I start to relax, realizing we've both survived, and just stare at his beautiful face. He's doing the same, and I can see how much he loves me. My thoughts on the ledge come back to me; I survived, and this is my chance.

I push my hair back from my face, then put my hands back on his neck, moving slowly closer, smiling at him a little. Am I really going to do this? Oh, yeah.

Our lips meet tentatively, then press together more firmly, and I'm kissing him, holding onto him, half-floating. This is so much better than hugging. I wrap my arms around him and we move closer together.

I pull back for a moment, and he reluctantly lets me. I just stare at him, amazed at myself, and smile. "Whoa."

He comes back for another kiss, and I happily meet him halfway, winding my arms around his neck and torso, feeling his arms around me.

I love kissing him, but I need to see him, too, so I pull back again, my hands resting on his chest, and just stare at him in wonder. The makeup seems to have washed off, but he's not nearly as pale as I expect. And his eyes… are changing. Cloudy gray morphs into a brilliant, beautiful blue. Wow. What is going on?

He smiles at me, a real smile, but then with a vicious little sound his left shoulder is shoved violently backwards, sending up a huge splash. I gasp and move towards him, and I realize in horror that he's been shot.

I whirl around to see my Dad and a troop of soldiers, guns all trained on us. "Next one's the head," Dad tells me coldly. "Move away from him, Julie."

Not a chance. "No!" I shield him with my body – fair's fair, he did the same for me a minute ago – and try frantically to make Dad understand.

"Julie, move, now."

How can he still think R is a threat to me? Or to anyone? "Dad… you have to listen to me." Is this revenge? No, it's just his reality. Zombie = bad. How can I get through to him, that things are changing?

"I know we lost everybody. I know you lost mom. But you and me, we're still here." Come on, Dad, see what's happening right in front of you! "We can fix all this! We can start over!" I reach behind me, wanting to touch R, to connect. "They need our help."

His expression isn't changing, and I'm starting to really panic. "Please, Dad!" I swing around to look at my sweet R, so typically wordless behind me. He's holding one hand to his chest with a shocked look on his face. I face Dad, challenging him. "Look at him! He's different. He's…" I turn to check on R, again, and he shows me his hand.

Oh my god. I reach out to touch, peering closely at his chest, and whatever I planned to say disappears. "…bleeding." Not a lot, but that's bright red, *living* blood pumping out of him. Discoloring the water around us. It takes me a second to remember that I'm in the middle of fighting for our lives.

"He's bleeding, Dad!" I spin around. "Corpses don't bleed!" Using his own words to prove my point.

"Oh, god," I mutter, turning my focus back to R. "You're alive," I exult, softly. I don't know how it's possible but I really don't care. He's alive. I study his face, seeing more color there – natural color – the gray disappearing from his skin just like it did from his eyes. I turn back to announce it to everyone. "He's alive!"

Dad's lowered the gun a little, just staring at us. I think he'll be okay. His instincts tells him to shoot zombies, but they're even more insistent that he protect the living. R just switched sides again.

Joyfully I face R again. "You're alive!"

The realization is starting to cross his face. He's happy, but not quite as joyful as me. Oh, of course. "Does it hurt?"

He nods, looking amazed. "Yeah."

I can't help it, I laugh. "Yeah." I turn around again, to see Kevin lowering his gun. Some of the others are, too.

Kevin looks at my dad. "Sir?"

Dad's just staring at us, but he's not pointing his gun our way anymore. We really are changing everything.

Kevin moves forward, beckoning us out of the pool. We start wading towards him. As I'm being helped out of the pond, I see Dad raise his radio, and through the splashing I can hear him say, "This is Colonel Grigio. The situation has changed."

I check on R again; he's moving well enough, and Kevin is reaching out to help him. I cross the ground to my dad and give him a big hug. Thanks for not killing my soon-to-be-boyfriend, Dad. My nightmare is over; all our nightmares are over. Maybe now we can live – live! – happily ever after. I know I'm giddy but it's hard not to be.

Dad returns the hug fiercely. He really almost lost me, that time, and I think he's realizing it. "Let's get you two the hell out of here."

I pull back and look for R, who's been helped out of the pool - carefully, I hope. He's wounded, after all, though it doesn't seem too bad. He's still standing, anyway. I hurry to his side and he puts his arm around me as we follow dad to the jeep.

They put a field dressing on his wound - enough to mostly staunch the bleeding, until they can get him to the clinic.

I don't especially want to ride shotgun with Dad while R's in the back seat by himself, but Dad glares at me when I start towards the rear door. Oh, well, it's a short ride, and with Dad in the car we wouldn't be able to do much anyway.

Dad surprises me by holding out a hand for me to take, as he drives. The look on his face is surprisingly humble, and I smile as I take his hand. Sure, he had a gun trained on me a few minutes ago, but I've already forgiven him. He was just following his instincts.

Same as R had been, until a few days ago. Luckily they were both able to change, to override their instincts when the occasion called for it.

Not everybody would be able to do that.

* * *

I wake up from a fitful sleep when a nurse enters R's hospital room. She smiles, semi-apologetically. "Sorry, hon, we've got to check on him." She hesitates, staying close to the door. "Um, is he awake?"

I can see there's still a guard out in the hallway. I wasn't sure, earlier, if he was there to protect R, but judging by the way he's focused on the room, I'm guessing he thinks he's there to put down the zombie if it becomes necessary.

Don't worry, no zombies here. Not anymore.

I smile, because I'm not sure I'll ever get over how awesome that is.

Speaking of ex-zombies... I turn my head to see R stir, and open his eyes. I think he might panic for a second, not being used to waking up anywhere, let alone a strange place. Then he sees me and relaxes. I move to his side.

"Good morning, R. You're in the hospital, remember? The nurse is here to check on you."

He looks at her and smiles a little, apprehensive but willing to try.

She moves closer, then, but still hesitates, looking at me. "Is it okay if I...?"

I guess it's going to take awhile for people to get comfortable with the former-dead. I'm happy to help the process along, so I nod encouragingly. "It's okay."

He's looking at me for direction, so I smile. "R, she's here to check your vital signs - because you have those now, which I'm still wildly happy about, by the way."

His smile widens. "Me, too."

I return the grin. _Damn, he's cute_. "Um,that means she's going to have to touch you, probably take your temperature, maybe blood pressure, I don't know what all. But I'll be right here, and nothing ought to hurt, so just do whatever she says, okay?"

He nods, but reaches out towards me. I grab hold of his hand and station myself by his side, telling the nurse to go ahead. She starts what looks like normal tests.

"How do you feel?" I ask, running my own test, resting my other hand on his arm.

He considers that. "I think I feel okay. It doesn't hurt as much." He raises his left arm a little and drops it immediately, wincing.

"Hey, take it easy; you will heal, but it'll take some time."

He looks up at me. "How long?"

I can't resist, affecting a stammer. "A f...few days? You'll... be o...kay."

He looks confused for a second, then smiles again. "What am I… supposed to do for a few days… around here, anyway?"

I laugh.

"You'll need to rest," the nurse says, a little more confident now that he's being so cooperative. "So you won't be doing much of anything."

I wink at R. He squeezes my hand. It feels fantastic to have a private joke with him. "I knew you were lying, you know," I tell him, conscious of our audience. "When you said I had to wait for a few days before it would be safe to leave."

"You did?" He looks surprised, and a trifle embarrassed.

I smirk, just a little. "Well, I wasn't certain, but I was pretty sure. I mean, I said I'd never heard a corpse talk before, and you just kind of shrugged and looked sad, so I figured you never heard them talk, either."

"A few words," he says, shrugging his good shoulder. "Not much."

"Which meant you had to be lonely. So I decided to stay awhile. I mean, you'd saved my life twice by then; I figured keeping you company for a few days was the least I could do."

The nurse is smiling now, and even the guard is relaxing. Hopefully they'll both tell everyone they know.

"Thank you." He looks down then back up at me. "For everything."

I lean in towards him, raising one hand to touch his cheek. "My pleasure, shrugger. Best vacation I ever had." I can't get over how blue his eyes are.

The nurse steps back and looks like she's wrapping things up.

"So? How is he?"

"The doctor should be in soon to explain," she says.

"Yes, but you're here now. And you just took lots of measurements. What did you find?"

She sighs, but with a reluctant smile. "Okay, well, this is not official but... it looks like he's still in the process of, um, recovering. His temperature is still kind of low, although it's higher than it was last night. Same with his heart rate and respiration. That's probably why he didn't lose more blood, yesterday; his heart wasn't pumping very strongly yet."

R frowns. "You mean, I'm not alive?"

She shakes her head, "No, you're definitely alive. It's just... well, your body isn't used to being alive yet, if that makes sense. There seems to be an adjustment period."

I tilt my head. "You know, that kind of makes sense. Remember last night, when you came to the house and I hugged you? You weren't alive then, yet, but you did feel warmer than before."

The guard sticks his head through the open doorway, looking alarmed. "Sorry to interrupt, but did I just hear you say he was inside the city before he... um..."

I turn towards him lifting my chin a little. "Before he stopped being a zombie? Yeah, he spent hours inside the city, undetected. Didn't hurt a soul. And then we walked right through downtown, on the way to see my dad."

"Wow."

"Although apparently he was already in the process of recovering." That's kind of amazing to contemplate, but then again... Well, I mean, he had to be. He fell asleep, the other night. The dead don't sleep, but he did. We just didn't know what it meant, at the time.

"So as far as you knew," the nurse asks, "he was still a zombie, and he'd always be a zombie?"

"Yep."

"And you hugged him?" The nurse looks equal parts intrigued and repulsed.

I smile. "Kissed him, too. Look, I don't know how much they told you, but we spent three or four days together before I got back to the city. He was my friend." I glance at R. "More than my friend, but I thought... that there was no chance. And then after he saved my life the third time- no, make that the fourth?"

I look at R, but he just shrugs and says, "Wasn't counting," with a little smile.

"Maybe fifth. Hard to keep track. Anyway, after he saved me _again_ I just didn't care if he had vital signs or not."

"Better now, though," R observes. "Maybe your dad won't kill me."

I shudder, remembering our close calls. "He won't." At least not for being a zombie. Dad might not be much happier with him as my boyfriend, vital signs or not. Dad will have to deal with it.

There's a stir at the door and I realize the nurse has stepped back as the doctor walks in. We go through the whole "is it safe to touch him" dance again. Sigh.

As the doctor is examining R, I move towards the door to talk to the guard and nurse. "Do you guys think we could put up a sign or something?" I keep an eye on R while I talk. "Just to make people feel more comfortable. Something to say: Yes, he's really alive now, no, it's not dangerous, he's very cooperative, just treat him like a normal person."

The guard's nodding, looking relieved. He's probably getting a lot more questions than me, anyway.

"I'll go write that down," the nurse offers.

"Thanks." I smile at her. "I know this is super weird."

She strides away, and returns a moment later, scribbling something on a sheet of paper. She looks sideways at me. "Were you scared?"

"When I first met him?" I laugh, remembering. "I was out of my mind terrified. For hours."

That gets a smile out of her. "I'll bet."

"I get why people are scared," I say quietly. "But they don't have to be. Not of him." I pause. "Probably not of the others, either. I've seen them, a whole crowd, and they didn't attack. And you know, they did help us fight off the skeletons."

"Yeah, I know. A couple of guys were saying they'd have been toast without the backup. Still, to see one up close..."

"Yeah. Well, do me a favor, and tell everyone you know that he's really cute and sweet and in love and wants nothing more than to live a normal life."

She's giggling quietly by the time I finish. "I think I can do that."

"Thanks."

She pastes up the sign and then scurries away when someone calls her name, and I gravitate back towards R. The doctor basically repeats everything the nurse said, ending up with "He'll be fine, we just need to give him some time to recover."

"Do I n…need to stay here?" R asks, with only slight hesitations between words.

"I'd like you to; you seem to be recovering well, but we really don't have any baseline for how this works. Maybe by this afternoon we'll have a better idea." He fiddles with his glasses then adds, "Frankly, I want to see how you handle lunch. This is, um, a big change in diet for you."

Good point. R hangs his head.

I reach for his hand. "You're gonna love Carbtein."

He looks sideways at me. "Don't think so."

The doctor and I both laugh. "Okay," I admit, "Nobody loves Carbtein. But it's very bland and nutritious, so it'll be good for you. But we don't have that much variety, because..." My voice trails off as an idea blooms.

"I have to talk to my Dad."

The doctor raises an eyebrow. "Okay, I'll pass along the message. I'll see you later, R."

R waves as the doctor leaves, shutting the door behind him. Leaving the room to just me and R. I smile at him.

"Hey," he says softly, tugging me closer. "How are you?"

Sounds better than the last time he said it, if not entirely natural just yet. "I'm happy." I sit on the side of his bed, and his hand curls around my waist. I lean forward and give him a short kiss. "We're here," I say softly, giving him another short kiss. "I'm still alive." This kiss is a little longer. "You're alive again."

He pouts as I pull away again, and I can't resist. This kiss is longer, and deeper, and more intense, and more meaningful. It says things like "I love you" and "I want to be with you forever," and even a little bit of "keep you safe."

I know, rationally, that it's much too soon for us to be getting that serious. This time last week we hadn't even met, and I was still dating Perry. Although on the other hand, we did save the world. That's pretty serious right there. I pull back, smiling, and then rearrange myself so that I'm lying next to him on the bed. My head feels very comfortable on his shoulder. His right arm is curved around me, making sure I don't fall off the bed.

Always keeping me safe.

* * *

**A/N: Almost done, just one more (short) part to go... thanks to all my readers :)**** And especially Nina, Alana, Brigid & NotMarge, for reviewing! **

**So what do you think Julie wants to talk to her dad about? ****J**


	7. Starting Over

Chapter 7: Starting Over

* * *

Dad just looks at me. "You want them to do what?"

I'm still in R's room, although by this point I've gone back to sitting on the edge of his bed. Dad came pretty promptly, all things considered. He had even managed not to say anything when he saw us in bed together.

"They can do salvage runs for us. It's perfect. I mean there are probably still some corpses out there that haven't gotten the memo. The recovering corpses should be pretty safe from them. And they can go places we never dared to. Like the airport. So they'll be contributing. We humans won't have to be at risk, and we'll get some amazing stuff. I know there's more fruit cocktail." I pause, considering.

"No beer left," R says, a note of humor in his voice.

"Not on your plane, no," I agree cheerfully. "But there are other planes."

Dad rolls his eyes, then returns to the subject at hand. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely, Dad. I mean, listen, everybody in this city has good reason to hate and fear corpses. I want to give them some counter-examples."

Dad looks sideways at R. "You think they'll go for this?"

"I can ask," he says, hardly stammering at all. "I think they will. Have to take care of bonies, first."

Dad nods. "We're organizing that now. The stadium's been cleared out. We'll send out soldiers and corpses, working together to hunt down the rest of them."

"Can I see my friend, before?" R asks. "Think his name started with M."

"We can probably make that happen - if I can figure out which one he is."

I nod. "I'll bet you've met him by now - he was kind of leading the pack last night. Older-looking guy, in a sport coat, mostly bald?"

"Sounds familiar, yeah. In that case, he's pretty close. I think he said his name was Marcus. I'll send him over. With," he adds, looking at me, daring me to object, "an escort for protection - his and others."

"Good idea," I reply, and I think I surprise him. "Hey, we're pretty much all trained to shoot corpses in the head on autopilot. It's gonna take time for that to change."

"You think we'll get there?" Dad asks.

"If I have anything to say about it, we will." I'm going to be a one-woman former-corpse public relations campaign if necessary. " And I plan on having something to say about it."

"Me, too," R says, looking at me with a small smile. "We're changing everything. Together."

* * *

Lunch was fine. R didn't feel very hungry, but he ate some bland food and kept it down. He's been drinking a lot of water today, too. The doctor had looked pleased at that, and said R's measurements were still improving. Almost normal, now, if on the low side of normal. I am so taking him home. Which reminds me of a song. Which reminds me of how he sometimes uses music to communicate.

"Shame we don't have a record player and your collection, R," I tell him, standing next to his bed, running my fingers lightly over his arm. "You could play a song, like… _Take Me Home Tonight_."

His eyes light up. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Too crowded around here." As if to prove my point, I hear a swell of voices out in the hallway. I go over to the door, open it, and look out to see M. He's the center of a crowd, smiling and saying "Hi" to everyone.

Individually.

There's a guard there, too, with a gun slung around his neck, but he's smiling broadly, enjoying the reflected attention, I think.

The doctors and nurses have had a little time to get used to the idea of the formerly-dead in their midst, apparently.

M makes his way toward us, smiling a little crookedly at me. "Julie," he greets me, much like he did the night before.

I'm a lot happier to see him now. "Hey! I hear you're a big shot."

He shrugs. "Doing… what I can."

"Well, come on in, R and I have a proposition for you."

He enters the hospital room. His guard and R's guard both stand just inside the door – more out of curiosity than apprehension, I think.

M shuffles over to the bed. "R," he says.

R nods happily. "Hi."

M sniffs the air. "Living," he says, deadpan, looking down at R. "Eat."

The guards stiffen, exchanging looks, but R smiles and I laugh out loud.

"Careful," I tell M. "You're going to get yourself into trouble with that sense of humor."

I glance at the guards, who are still looking kind of uneasy. "It's an inside joke," I tell them. "He's not serious. They're old friends."

M reaches out to touch R on the shoulder, shaking him gently. "You okay?"

"Yes," R answers, catching my eye. "They're taking good care of me. And Julie's here."

M glances my way, too. "That's… very good."

"Well, where else am I going to be?" I ask, rhetorically. "Plus, if I run away he'd just come after me – probably saving my life again in the process, and that's just too much effort right now."

M nods, a glint of humor in his eyes. "Heard you saved him, too."

"Fair's fair," R says, sounding proud – of me?

"That's what friends do," I add. "And speaking of which, we have something to ask you."

* * *

It was dinner time before I finally managed to bring R home. Dad had made some noises about finding him somewhere else to stay, but I was adamant. I was going to be with R, wherever he was, and I didn't want to move out. So Dad caved. I think he was scared of making me choose between him and R, considering the result the *last* time he made me choose.

To make things less awkward, all around, though, R got his own room, down the hall from mine. "So here you are," I say, escorting him in. "What do you think?"

He walks inside, looking around carefully. "It's very.. empty."

"Well, no one's used this room for years. But it has basic furniture, including a bed - which is very important. Um," I suddenly realize what that sounded like. "Because, you know, you sleep now, so, well, you um, need somewhere more comfortable than the floor."

He looks at me, hesitant. "I knew what you meant. Julie, I don't..." he pauses, searching for the right words, I think. "I don't want you to feel... obligated. I appreciate everything you're doing for me. You don't need to, you know, do anything else... anything you don't want to."

I go up on my tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his mouth. "Thank you. But you're not here because I think I owe you something, or... or that I feel responsible for you. You're here because I want you here." I chew my lip. "Maybe I should have asked..."

He smiles. "You didn't kidnap me," he points out softly, his hands coming up to rest lightly on my hips. "I'm here because... I want to be here. With you."

"For... a few days?"

"For as long as you'll let me stay."

I catch my breath, lost in the love shining out of his blue eyes. "Oh, that'll be a while." I want to kiss him, but this is important. "Look, R, there's no rush. You're still recovering, still getting used to being alive. Let's not make any permanent decisions until you're fully up to speed. But... just to warn you... I'm going to want you to stay. With me."

"In that case," he says, leaning down slowly. "There shouldn't be a conflict." Then he's kissing me and I'm kissing him, and it's better now than it was this afternoon, just like this afternoon was better than the day before. If this is him only being partially recovered, then it's going to keep on getting better. Whoa.

I feel him stagger slightly, and I break the kiss. "Oh, you shouldn't still be standing."

His face does look a little pale, although it's hard to tell, considering.

He nods. "I could maybe sit down."

I take his hand and lead him into my room, settling him on the couch before sitting right next to him, curling up against his side. "When you're feeling stronger, once the Bonies are taken care of... we can take a truck out to the airport and get some of your stuff."

"That'd be nice," he agrees, one arm coming around my shoulders. "I kind of miss my record player."

I smile. "Me, too."

"Some of the rest of it, though..."

I wait, but he doesn't continue. After a few long moments I prompt, "Yeah?"

"Julie, I got all that stuff... while hunting. For food."

"You can't blame yourself for that," I insist, squirming around to look him in the eyes.

"That's what I used to tell myself," he says quietly, looking at me, suffused in regret. "That this was just the way the world was now. I never thought... I could change."

"Why should you think that?" I ask. "No one else did. But, R, I think all that stuff... was your way of trying to hold on to... to, I don't know, your humanity. You didn't totally give in."

"Maybe not, but Julie, I've… I've killed people. A lot of people. Including Perry."

"And then you saved me," I point out. "And then we saved the whole world. That kind of... balances out the scales, a little, don't you think?"

He looks like he wants to believe me.

"Hey, I meant to ask you - did Perry shoot you?"

He looks a little confused at the apparent change in subject, then furrows his brow a little, looking down, thinking back. "Yeah," he nods. "He did. In the chest. I had been going towards you, when he distracted me. I kind of... lost it. Angry that he was interrupting."

I nod, smiling a little. "I thought so. Think about it, R; he was on the counter, you weren't paying a bit of attention. Why didn't he shoot you in the head?"

He frowns. "I... don't know. Can't remember what he was thinking."

I raise an eyebrow at that, but he doesn't notice. He's going to have to be careful about that; what happened to Perry needs to remain our secret. No one else needs to know. For now, though, I decide not to comment. "I think I can tell you. He was thinking that he was so tired of fighting. And it was all hopeless anyway. Some part of him... wanted to die. To get it over with."

He looks at me, eyes widening slightly. "Yeah, I think you're right."

"And then when you, um," How do I put this? "Acquired his memories...? I think Perry saved my life that day, almost as much as you did."

He thinks that over, and I wait. Patiently. He needs to really get this, and I can see his expression lightening, practically see the guilt starting to leak away. Eventually, he nods. "Okay."

I smile at him. He smiles back.

"We don't need to get your stuff," I offer, "if you'd rather forget it."

He shakes his head. "No, there are some things I want to keep. Things I did with you."

"I'd like to keep some of that, too. Things like-"

There's a sudden loud noise from downstairs, and I jump. I can feel R tensing. Then I hear Nora's voice. "Yo, Grigio, are you here?" She sounds happy.

"Yes," I yell out the door, "and you almost gave me a heart attack!"

R settles back against the couch. "Me, too. I think."

I listen to her run up the stairs, too comfortable where I am to move. She'll find me.

"Julie, great news!" She bursts into my room, skidding to a halt as she sees me. She grins at the sight of me with R. "Hey, R. Jules, I finally got accepted into the program!"

It takes me a second, but then I get it. "The nursing program? Really? Nora, that's great!"

"Yep," she says, so happy she's bouncing on her toes. "I start training tomorrow."

"That's fast, isn't it?"

She shrugs, still practically dancing with excitement. "Yeah, they figure they're going to need a lot more help in the near future. And, well… Kevin pulled a few strings."

I blink. "And you're okay with that?"

"Are you kidding? It's the sweetest thing he's ever done for me!" She grins. "I was going to ask if you minded if I didn't sleep here tonight, but I'm guessing you'll be well-entertained without me."

I roll my eyes, and possibly blush.

"I'm happy for you, Nora," R says, only stuttering a little. He's still not as fluent with other people as he is with me. "I know you r…really wanted this."

Um, yeah, no - Perry knew that. I frown at him, and his eyes widen as he realizes what he said. "Julie told me," he adds hastily, covering before Nora has time to notice his slip.

Not that she seems inclined to analyze anything right now. She may not have even heard him.

"So, anyway, see you tomorrow, Jules!" Nora throws me a wicked grin on her way out of the room. "Have sweet dreams *with* your zombie."

Then she's gone. I yell "Ex-zombie!" at her retreating form, but she doesn't respond. I just shake my head and lean against R. "Told you they'd get back together."

* * *

Life did not return to normal after that. Thank God. Corpses and humans worked together to wipe out the Bonies, and then we started settling into a new normal, where former-corpses moved around, learned to eat Carbtein, and began to form relationships with the living. Friends, mostly. Some family members found each other.

We had a volunteer drive, at first, sort of a Big Brother program for the undead instead of the underprivileged. But with the corpses fighting the bonies alongside us... and bringing back exotic canned goods... and steadily turning up in the medical tent to have their heartbeats checked and be declared alive again... things went really well.

Marcus was apparently quite the ladies' man. Although his sense of humor still needed a little work. Then again, maybe not. I mean, the awful jokes were very useful at breaking the ice.

R stayed in my house, in his own room. We decorated with a small portion of his collection, just the stuff we both wanted, if they didn't have any bad memories attached. He had some nightmares, but not as bad as I'd feared.

Speaking of stuff, some of the former dead are agitating to get their old things back. Trying to reclaim their former lives, if they can remember – or figure out – what they were. Dad's of the legal opinion that you can't take it with you. But we have a civilian government now, so it's not up to him. They'll work something out, I suppose.

We've come such a very long way in only a few months. It's still sometimes hard to believe. For so long, things had been hopeless. Until everything changed, and now there's an abundance of hope. It's beautiful.

So now, we're sitting on the side of an old stone bridge in the late afternoon sun, overlooking the city below. The view should be terrific from here. As we're waiting for the fireworks to start, a stray thought hits. "R?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember your name yet?" I'm pretty sure he hasn't, but I've been kind of reluctant to broach the topic, remembering how sad he seemed way back when on the plane, struggling to introduce himself.

He shakes his head, looking down at our hands in his lap, not seeming upset.

"Well, you know, you could give yourself one." I mean, I'm the one who started calling him R. He shouldn't feel stuck with it. "Just pick one. Whatever you want."

He considers that for a moment, then looks at me. "I like R," he says, almost surprised at himself.

"Really?" I smile. He wants to keep the name I gave him? "You don't want to know what it was? You don't want your old life back?"

He shakes his head, glancing down again. "No," he answers, not even a shred of doubt. He looks at me and smiles. "I want this one."

He is so adorable. I lean my head against his shoulder, snuggling up. "Just R, huh?"

"Just R," he confirms. Quietly, contentedly.

Below us, explosions start, bringing down the wall. We don't need it anymore. The plague is gone, humanity is starting to recover.

_See, Dad?_ I think lazily. _Sometimes things *do* get better_.

And just like R, I am exactly where I want to be.

"Have I mentioned," I ask quietly, holding R's hand, "that I love you?"

"Not since lunch," he says, amused. "But the evidence then was pretty convincing." He stretches a finger to touch my brand new engagement ring. "And in case you didn't know… I love you, too."

I sigh happily. Life is pretty damn near perfect.

The End.

**A/N: Thanks to all six of my readers - you are all awesome. **** I'm so glad you enjoyed this ride with me. Hope you liked how I ended things. Thanks very much for every review, favorite, and follow; I greatly appreciate the ego boost. **

**Special thanks to NotMarge for being a fabulous fanfic friend and letting me bounce some ideas off her.**


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